©,  to 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF 
HARRY   REVEL 


NOVELS,  STORIES,  SKETCHES  AND 
ESSAYS 


The  Adventures  of  Harry  Revel        .        .  121110, 

The  White  Wolf  and  other  Fireside  Tales  12010, 

The  Laird's  Luck  and  other  Fireside  Tales  121110, 

Old  Fires  and  Profitable  Ghosts          .         .  12010, 

The  Ship  of  Stars i2mo, 

The  Splendid  Spur 12010, 

The  Blue  Pavilions 12010, 

Wandering  Heath i2mo, 

The  Delectable  Duchy        ....  12010, 

Dead  Man's  Rock       ...                 .  12010, 

Noughts  and  Crosses 12010, 

Troy  Town 12010, 

I  Saw  Three  Ships 12010, 

Adventures  in  Criticism       ....  12010, 

Historical  Tales  from  Shakespeare     .         .  12010, 

la.     A  Love  Story  \Ivory  Series}       .        .  12010, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF 
HARRY  REVEL 


BY 


A.  T.  QUILLER-COUCH 

(Q) 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK   1903 


COPYRIGHT,  1903,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published,  April,  1903 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  I  FIND  MYSELF  A  FOUNDLING       ...       1 

II.  I  START  IN  LIFE  AS  AN  EMINENT  PERSON    .     11 

III.  I  AM  BOUND  APPRENTICE      .        .        .        .22 

IV.  Miss  PLINLIMMON 41 

V.  THE  SHADOW  OF  ARCHIBALD        .                 .     55 

VI.  I  STUMBLE  INTO  HORROR       ....     75 

VII.  I  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  JEW'S  HOUSE        .        .     85 

VIII.  POOR  TOM  BOWLING     .                                  .     94 

IX.  SALTASH  FERRY 112 

X.  I  Go  ON  A  HONEYMOON  ....  128 

XI.  FLIGHT 140 

XII.  I  FALL  AMONG  SMUGGLERS    .                 .        .  152 

XIII.  THE  MAN  ON  THE  VERANDAH        .        »        .  165 

XIV.  THE  MOCK-ORANGE  BUSH       .                          .  182 

XV.  MINDEN  COTTAGE  ...                         .  194 

XVI.  MR.  JACK  ROGERS  AS  A  MAN  OF  AFFAIRS    .  215 


438747 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XVII.  LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES       .        .        .  231 

XVIII.  THE  OWL'S  CRY 246 

XIX.  CHECKMATE.        ......  256 

XX.  ISABEL'S  REVENGE 267 

XXI.    I  Go  CAMPAIGNING  WITH  LORD  WELLING- 
TON          290 

XXII.    ON  THE  GREATER  TESSON  ....  304 

XXIII.  IN  CIUDAD  EODRIGO 321 

XXIV.  I  EXCHANGE  THE  LAUREL  FOR  THE  OLIVE.  337 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF 
HARRY   REVEL 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF 
HARRY   REVEL 

CHAPTER  I 

I    FIND    MYSELF    A    FOUNDLING 

MY  earliest  recollections  are  of  a  square  court- 
yard surrounded  by  high  walls  and  paved  with 
blue  and  white  pebbles  in  geometrical  patterns 
— circles,  parallelograms,  and  lozenges.  Two  of 
these  walls  were  blank,  and  had  been  coped  with 
broken  bottles;  a  third,  similarly  coped,  had 
heavy  folding-doors  of  timber,  leaden-grey  in 
colour  and  studded  with  black  bolt-heads.  Be- 
side them  stood  a  leaden-grey  sentry-box,  and  in 
this  sat  a  red-faced  man  with  a  wooden  leg  and 
a  pigtail,  whose  business  was  to  attend  to  the 
wicket  and  keep  an  eye  on  us  small  boys  as  we 
played.  He  owned  two  books  which  he  read 
constantly:  one  was  Foxe's  Martyrs,  and  the 
other  (which  had  no  title  on  the  binding)  I 
1 


OF  HAKRY  REVEL 

to  be  "The  Devil  on 


Two  Sticks." 

The  arch  over  these  gates  bore  two  gilt 
legends.  That  facing  the  roadway  ran  "Train 
up  a  Child  in  the  Way  he  should  Go"  which 
prepared  the  visitor  to  read  on  the  inner  side 
"When  he  is  Old  he  will  not  Depart  from  it." 
But  we  twenty-five  small  foundlings,  who  sel- 
dom evaded  the  wicket,  and  so  passed  our  days 
with  the  second  half  of  the  quotation,  found  in 
it  a  particular  and  dreadful  meaning. 

The  fourth  and  last  wall  was  the  front  of  the 
hospital,  a  two-storeyed  building  of  grey  lime- 
stone, with  a  clock  and  a  small  cupola  of  copper, 
weather-greened,  and  a  steeply-pitched  roof  of 
slate  pierced  with  dormer  windows,  behind  one 
of  which  (because  of  a  tendency  to  walk  in  my 
sleep)  I  slept  in  the  charge  of  Miss  Plinlimmon, 
the  matron.  Below  the  eaves  ran  a  line  of  eight 
tall  windows,  the  three  on  the  extreme  right  be- 
longing to  the  chapel  ;  and  below  these  again  a 
low-browed  colonnade,  in  the  shelter  of  which 
we  played  on  rainy  days,  but  never  in  fine 
weather  —  though  its  smooth  limestone  slabs 
made  an  excellent  pitch  for  marbles,  whereas  on 
the  pebbles  in  the  yard  expertness  could  only  be 
2 


I    FIND    MYSELF    A    FOUNDLING 

obtained  by  heart-breaking  practice.  Yet  we 
preferred  them.  If  it  did  nothing  else,  the 
Genevan  Hospital,  by  Plymouth  Dock,  taught 
us  to  suit  ourselves  to  the  world  as  we  found  it. 

I  do  not  remember  that  we  were  unhappy  or 
nursed  any  sense  of  injury,  except  over  the  por- 
ridge for  breakfast.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Scougall, 
our  pastor,  had  founded  the  hospital  some 
twenty  years  before  with  the  money  subscribed 
by  certain  Calvinistic  ladies  among  whom  he 
ministered,  and  under  the  patronage  of  a  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  like  belief,  then  occupying 
Admiralty  House.  His  purpose  (to  which  we 
had  not  the  smallest  objection)  was  to  rescue  us 
from  jetsam  and  save  us  from  many  dreadful 
Christian  heresies,  more  especially  those  of 
Rome.  But  he  came  from  the  north  of  Britain 
and  argued  (I  suppose)  that  what  porridge  had 
done  for  him  in  childhood  it  might  well  do  for 
us — a  conclusion  against  which  our  poor  little 
southern  stomachs  rebelled.  It  oppressed  me 
worse  than  any,  for  since  the  discovery  of  my 
sleep-walking  habit  my  supper  (of  plain  bread 
and  water)  had  been  docked,  so  that  I  came 
ravenous  to  breakfast  and  yet  could  not  eat. 

Nevertheless  I  do  not  think  we  were  unhappy. 
3 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

Perhaps  we  were  too  young,  and  at  any  rate  we 
had  nothing  with  which  to  contrast  our  lot 
Across  the  roadway  outside  lay  blue  water,  and 
of  this  and  of  roving  ships  and  boats  and  free 
passers-by  glimpse  came  to  us  through  the 
wicket  when  Mr.  George,  the  porter  (we  always 
addressed  him  as  "Mr."  and  supposed  him  to 
resemble  the  King  in  features),  admitted  a  vis- 
itor, or  the  laundress,  or  the  butcher's  boy.  And 
sometimes  we  broke  off  a  game  to  watch  the  top- 
masts of  a  vessel  gliding  by  silently,  above  the 
wall's  coping.  But  if  at  any  time  the  world 
called  to  us,  we  took  second  thoughts,  remember- 
ing our  clothes. 

We  wore,  I  dare  say,  the  most  infernal  cos- 
tume ever  devised  by  man — a  tightish  snuff- 
coloured  jacket  with  diminutive  tails,  an  orange 
waistcoat,  snuff-coloured  breeches,  grey-blue 
worsted  stockings,  and  square-toed  shoes  with 
iron  caps.  Add  a  flat-topped  cap  with  an  im- 
mense leathern  brim ;  add  Genevan  neck-bands ; 
add,  last  of  all,  a  leathern  badge  with  "G.F.H." 
(Genevan  Foundling  Hospital)  depending  from 
the  left  breast-button;  and  you  may  imagine 
with  what  diffidence  we  took  our  rare  walks 
abroad.  The  dock  boys,  of  course,  greeted  us 
4 


I   FIND   MYSELF   A   FOUNDLING 

with  cries  of  "Yellow  Hammer !"  The  butcher- 
boy  had  once  even  dared  to  fling  that  taunt  at 
us  within  our  own  yard ;  and  we  left  him  in  no 
doubt  about  the  hammering,  gallant  fellow 
though  he  was  and  wore  a  spur  on  his  left  heel. 
But  no  bodily  deformity  could  have  corroded  us, 
as  did  those  accursed  garments,  with  terror  of 
the  world  without  and  of  its  laughter. 

Of  a  world  yet  more  distant  we  were  taught 
the  gloomiest  views.  Twice  a  week  regularly, 
and  incidentally  whenever  he  found  occasion, 
Mr.  Scougall  painted  the  flames  of  hell  for  us 
in  the  liveliest  colours.  We  never  doubted  his 
word  that  our  chances  of  escaping  them  were 
small  indeed;  but  somehow,  as  life  did  not  al- 
lure, so  eternity  did  not  greatly  frighten  us. 
Meanwhile  we  played  at  our  marbles.  We 
knew,  in  spite  of  the  legend  over  the  gateway, 
that  at  the  age  of  ten  or  so  our  elder  companions 
disappeared.  They  went,  as  a  fact,  into  various 
trades  and  callings,  like  ordinary  parish  appren- 
tices. Perhaps  we  guessed  this;  if  so,  it  must 
have  been  vaguely,  and  I  incline  to  believe  that 
we  confused  their  disappearance  with  death  in 
our  childish  musings  on  the  common  lot.  They 
never  came  back  to  see  us ;  and  I  remember  that 
5 


ADVENTURES    OF   HAERY   REVEL 

we  were  curiously  shy  of  speaking  about  them, 
once  gone. 

From  Miss  Plinlimmon's  window  above  the 
eaves  I  could  look  over  the  front  wall  on  to  an 
edge  of  roadway,  a  straight  dock  like  a  canal — 
crowded  with  shipping — and  a  fort  which  fired 
a  gun  in  the  early  morning  and  again  at  sunset. 
And  every  morning,  too,  drums  would  sound 
from  the  hill  at  our  back ;  and  be  answered  by 
a  soldier,  who  came  steadily  down  the  roadway 
beside  the  dock,  halted  in  front  of  our  gates,  and 
blew  a  call  on  his  bugle.  Other  bugle-calls 
sounded  all  around  us  throughout  the  day  and 
far  into  our  sleep-time:  but  this  was  the  only 
performer  I  ever  saw.  He  wore  a  red  coat,  a 
high  japanned  hat,  and  clean  white  pantaloons 
with  black  gaiters:  and  I  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  was  always  the  same  soldier.  Yet  I  had 
plenty  of  opportunities  for  observing  him,  for 
Miss  Plinlimmon  made  it  a  rule  that  I  should 
stand  at  the  window  and  continue  to  gaze  out  of 
it  while  she  dressed. 

One  day  she  paused  in  the  act  of  plaiting  her 
hair.     "Harry,"  said  she,  "I  shall  always  think 
of  you  and  that  tune  together.     It  is  called  the 
Revelly,  which  is  a  French  word." 
6 


I    FIND    MYSELF    A    FOUNDLING 

"But  the  soldier's  English  ?"  said  I. 

"Oh,  I  truly  trust  so — a  heart  of  oak,  I 
should  hope!  England  cannot  have  too  many 
of  them  in  these  days,  when  a  weak  woman  can- 
not lay  herself  down  in  her  bed  at  night  with 
the  certainty  of  getting  up  in  the  same  position 
in  the  morning." 

(They  were  days  when,  as  I  afterwards 
learnt,  Napoleon's  troops  and  flat-bottomed 
boats  were  gathered  at  Boulogne  and  waiting 
their  opportunity  to  invade  us.  But  of  this 
scarcely  an  echo  penetrated  to  our  courtyard, 
although  the  streets  outside  were  filled  daily 
with  the  tramping  of  troops  and  rolling  of  store- 
waggons.  We  knew  that  our  country — whatever 
that  might  mean — was  at  war  with  France,  and 
we  played  in  our  yard  a  game  called  "French 
and  English."  That  was  all:  and  Miss  Plin- 
limmon,  good  soul,  if  at  times  she  awoke  in 
the  night  and  shuddered  and  listened  for  the 
yells  of  Frenchmen  in  the  town,  heroically  kept 
her  fears  to  herself.  This  was  as  near  as  she 
ever  came  to  imparting  them.) 

"I  have  often  thought  of  you,  Harry,"  she 
went  on,  "as  embracing  a  military  career.  Mr. 
Scougall  very  kindly  allows  me  to  choose  sur- 
7 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

names  for  you  boys  when  you — when  you  leave 
us.  He  says  (but  I  fear  in  flattery)  that  I 
have  more  invention  than  he."  And  here, 
though  bound  on  my  word  of  honour  not  to  look, 
I  felt  sure  she  was  smiling  to  herself  in  the 
glass.  "What  would  you  say  if  I  christened 
you  Eevelly  ?" 

"Oh,  please,  no !"  I  entreated.  "Let  mine  be 
an  English  name.  Why — why  couldn't  I  be 
called  Plinlimmon?  I  would  rather  have  that 
than  any  name  in  the  world." 

"You  are  a  darling !"  exclaimed  she,  much  to 
my  surprise;  and,  the  next  moment,  I  felt  a 
little  pecking  kiss  on  the  back  of  my  neck.  She 
usually  kissed  me  at  night,  after  my  prayers 
were  said :  but  somehow  this  was  different,  and 
I  felt  the  tears  rising  without  knowing  why, 
for  we  were  not  given  to  tears  at  the  Genevan 
Hospital.  "Plinlimmon  is  a  mountain  in 
Wales,  and  that,  I  dare  say,  is  what  makes  me 
so  romantic.  Now  you  are  not  romantic  in  the 
least:  and,  besides,  it  wouldn't  do.  No,  in- 
deed. But  you  shall  be  called  by  an  English 
name,  if  you  wish,  though  to  my  mind  there's  a 
j&ne  sais  quoi  about  the  French.  I  once  knew 
a  Frenchman,  a  writing  and  dancing  master, 
8 


I    FIND    MYSELF    A    FOUNDLING 

called  Duvelleroy,  which  always  seemed  the 
beautifullest  name." 

"Was  he  beautiful  himself  ?"  I  asked. 

"He  used  to  play  a  kit — which  is  a  kind  of 
small  fiddle — holding  it  across  his  waist.  It 
made  him  look  as  if  he  were  cutting  himself  in 
half;  which  did  not  contribute  to  that  result. 
But  suppose,  now,  we  call  you  Revel — Harry 
Revel?  That's  English  enough,  and  will  re- 
mind me  just  the  same — if  Mr.  Scougall  will 
not  think  it  too  Anacherontic." 

I  saw  no  reason  to  fear  this :  but  then  I  had 
no  idea  what  she  meant  by  it,  or  by  calling  her- 
self romantic.  She  was  certainly  soft-hearted. 
She  possessed  many  books  beside,  an  album  in 
her  own  handwriting,  and  encouraged  me  (dear, 
sly  soul)  to  read  aloud  to  her  on  summer  morn- 
ings when  the  sun  was  up  and  ahead  of  us.  And 
once,  in  the  story  of  "Maximilian,  or  Quite  the 
Gentleman:  Founded  on  Fact  and  designed  to 
excite  the  Love  of  Virtue  in  the  Rising  Genera- 
tion," at  a  point  where  the  hero's  small  brother 
Felix  is  carried  away  by  an  eagle,  she  dissolved 
in  tears.  "In  my  native  Wales,"  she  explained 
afterwards,  "the  wild  sheep  leap  from  rock  to 
rock  so  much  as  a  matter  of  course  that  you 
9 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

would,  in  time,  be  surprised  if  they  didn't.  And 
that  naturally  gives  me  a  sympathy  with  all 
that  is  sublime  on  the  one  hand  or  piteous  on 
the  other." 

Yet  later — but  I  cannot  separate  these  things 
accurately  in  time — I  awoke  in  my  cot  one  night 
and  heard  Miss  Plinlimmon  sobbing.  The 
sound  was  dreadful  to  me  and  I  longed  to  creep 
across  the  room  to  her  dark  bedside  and  com- 
fort her ;  though  I  could  tell  she  was  trying  to 
suppress  it  for  fear  of  disturbing  me.  In  the 
end  her  sobs  ceased  and,  still  wondering,  I 
dropped  off  to  sleep,  nor  next  day  did  I  dare  to 
question  her. 

But  it  could  not  have  been  long  after  this 
that  we  boys  got  wind  of  Mr.  Scougall's  ap- 
proaching marriage  with  a  wealthy  lady  of  the 
town.  I  must  speak  of  this  ceremony,  because, 
as  the  fates  ordained,  it  gave  me  my  first  start 
in  life. 


10 


CHAPTEE  II 

I    START    IN    LIFE    AS    AN    EMINENT    PERSON 

ME.  SCOUGALL  was  a  lean  strident  man  who,  if 
he  lectured  us  often,  whipped  us  on  the  whole 
with  judgment  and  when  we  deserved  it.  So 
we  bore  him  no  grudge.  But  neither  did  we 
love  him  nor  take  any  lively  interest  in  him  as  a 
bridegroom,  and  I  was  startled  to  find  these 
feelings  shared  by  Mr.  George  in  the  porter's 
box  when  I  discussed  the  news  with  him.  "I'm 
to  have  a  new  suit  of  clothes,"  said  Mr.  George, 
"but  whoever  gets  Scougall,  he's  no  catch." 
This  sounded  blasphemous,  while  it  gave  me  a 
sort  of  fearful  joy.  I  reported  it,  under  seal 
of  secrecy,  to  Miss  Plinlimmon.  "Naval  men, 
my  dear  Harry,"  was  her  comment,  "are  no- 
toriously blunt  and  outspoken,  even  when  re- 
tired upon  a  pension;  perhaps,  indeed,  if  any- 
thing more  so.  It  is  in  consequence  of  this 
habit  that  they  have  sometimes  performed  their 
grandest  feats,  as  for  instance  when  Horatio 
11 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

Nelson  put  his  spy-glass  up  to  his  blind  eye.  I 
advise  you  to  do  the  same  and  treat  Mr.  George 
as  a  chartered  heart  of  oak,  without  remember- 
ing his  indiscretions  to  repeat  them."  She  went 
on  to  tell  me  that  sailor-men  were  beloved  in 
Plymouth  and  allowed  to  do  pretty  much  as 
they  pleased  and  how,  quite  recently,  a  Quaker 
lady  had  been  stopped  in  Bedford  Street  by  a 
Jack  Tar  who  said  he  had  sworn  to  kiss  her. 
"Thee  must  be  quick  about  it,  then,"  said  the 
Quaker  lady.  And  he  was. 

I  suppose  this  anecdote  encouraged  me  to  be 
more  familiar  with  Mr.  George.  At  any  rate, 
I  confided  to  him  next  day  that  I  thought  of 
being  a  soldier. 

"Do  you  know  what  we  used  to  say  in  the 
Navy?"  he  answered.  "We  used  to  say,  'A 
messmate  before  a  shipmate,  a  shipmate  before 
a  dog,  and  a  dog  before  a  soldier.' ' 

"You  think,"  said  I,  somewhat  discouraged, 
"that  the  Navy  would  be  a  better  opening  for 
me?" 

"Ay,"  he  answered  again,  eyeing  me  gloom- 
ily :  "that  is,  if  so  be  ye  can't  contrive  to  get  to 
jail."  He  cast  a  glance  down  upon  his  jury-leg 
and  patted  the  straps  of  it  with  his  open  palm. 
12 


I    START    IN    LIFE 

"The  leg,  now,  that  used  to  be  here — I  left  it 
in  a  French  prison  called  Jivvy,  and  often  I 
thinks  to  myself  'That  there  leg  is  having  better 
luck  than  the  rest  of  me.'  And  here's  another 
curious  thing.  What  d'ye  think  they  call  it  in 
France  when  you  remember  a  person  in  your 
will?" 

I  hadn't  a  notion,  and  said  so. 

"Why,  'legs/  "  said  he.  "And  they've  got 
one  of  mine.  If  a  man  was  superstitious,  you 
might  almost  call  it  a  coincidence,  hey  ?" 

This  was  the  longest  conversation  I  ever  had 
with  Mr.  George.  I  have  since  found  that  sen- 
timents very  like  his  about  the  Navy  have  been 
uttered  by  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson.  But  this  must 
be  a  real  coincidence.  Mr.  George  spoke  them 
out  of  his  own  experience,  and  I  had  cause  to 
recall  them  later  on,  as  you  will  see. 

Mr.  Scougall's  bride  was  the  widow  of  a 
Plymouth  publican  who  had  sold  his  business 
and  retired  upon  a  small  farm  across  the  Ham- 
oaze,  near  the  Cornish  village  of  Anthony.  On 
the  wedding  morning  (which  fell  early  in  July) 
she  had,  by  agreement  with  her  groom,  prepared 
a  delightful  surprise  for  us.  We  trooped  after 
13 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

r 

prayers  into  the  dining-hall  to  find,  in  place  of 
the  hateful  porridge,  a  feast  laid  out — ham  and 
eggs,  cold  veal  pies,  gooseberry  preserves,  and — 
best  of  all — plate  upon  plate  of  strawberries 
with  bowl  upon  bowl  of  cool  clotted  cream.  Not 
a  child  of  us  had  ever  tasted  strawberries  or 
cream  in  his  life,  so  you  may  guess  if  we  ate 
with  prudence.  At  half-past  ten  Miss  Plinlim- 
mon  (who  had  not  found  the  heart  to  restrain 
our  appetites)  marshalled  and  led  us  forth, 
gorged  and  torpid,  to  the  church  where  at  eleven 
o'clock  the  ceremony  was  to  take  place.  Her 
eyes  were  red-rimmed  as  she  cast  them  up 
towards  the  window  behind  which  Mr.  Scou- 
gall,  no  doubt,  was  at  that  moment  arraying 
himself:  but  she  commanded  a  firm  step,  and 
even  a  firm  voice  to  remark  outside  the  wicket, 
as  she  looked  up  at  the  chimney-pots,  that 
Nature  had  put  on  her  fairest  garb. 

The  day,  to  be  sure,  was  monstrously  hot  and 
stuffy.  Not  a  breath  of  wind  ruffled  the  waters 
of  the  dock,  around  the  head  of  which  we 
trudged  to  a  recently  erected  church  on  the  op- 
posite shore.  I  remember  observing,  on  our 
way,  the  dazzling  brilliance  of  its  weathercock. 

We  found  its  interior  spacious  but  warm,  and 
14 


I    STAKT    IN   LIFE 

the  air  heavy  with  the  scent — it  comes  back  to 
me  as  I  write — of  a  peculiar  sweet  oil  used  in 
the  lamps.  Perhaps  Mr.  Scougall  had  calcu- 
lated that  a  ceremony  so  interesting  to  him 
would  attract  a  throng  of  sight-seers;  at  any 
rate,  we  were  packed  into  a  gallery  at  the  ex- 
treme western  end  of  the  church,  and  in  due 
time  watched  the  proceedings  from  that  respect- 
ful distance  and  across  a  gulf  of  empty  pews. 

That  is  to  say,  some  of  us  watched.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  Miss  Plinlimmon  did,  for  in- 
stance; nay,  that  her  attention  was  riveted. 
Otherwise  I  cannot  explain  what  followed. 

On  the  previous  night  I  had  gone  to  bed  al- 
most supperless,  as  usual.  I  had  come,  as  usual, 
ravenous  to  breakfast,  and  for  once  I  had  sated, 
and  more  than  sated,  desire.  For  years  after, 
though  hungry  often  enough  in  the  course  of 
them,  I  never  thought  with  longing  upon  cold 
veal  or  strawberries,  nor  have  I  ever  recovered 
a  virgin  appetite  for  either. 

It  is  certain,  then,  that  even  before  the  cere- 
mony began — and  the  bride  arrived  several 
minutes  late — I  slumbered  on  the  back  bench  of 
the  gallery.  The  evidence  of  six  boys  seated 
near  me  agrees  that,  at  the  moment  when  Mr. 
15 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

Scougall  produced  the  ring,  I  arose  quietly,  but 
without  warning,  and  made  my  exit  by  the  bel- 
fry door.  They  supposed  that  I  was  taken  ill ; 
they  themselves  were  feeling  more  or  less  un- 
comfortable. 

The  belfry  stairway,  by  which  we  had  reached 
the  door  of  our  gallery,  wound  upwards  beyond 
it  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  gave  issue  by  a 
low  doorway  upon  the  dwarf  battlements,  from 
which  sprang  a  spire  some  eighty  feet  high. 
This  spire  was,  in  fact,  a  narrow  octohedron,  its 
sides  hung  with  slate,  its  eight  ridges  faced  with 
Bath  stone,  and  edged  from  top  to  bottom  with 
ornamental  crockets. 

The  service  over,  bride  and  bridegroom  with- 
drew with  their  friends  to  the  vestry  for  the 
signing  of  the  register;  and  there,  while  they 
dallied  and  interchanged  good  wishes,  were  in- 
terrupted by  the  beadle,  a  white-faced  pew- 
opener,  and  two  draymen  from  the  street,  with 
news  (as  one  of  the  draymen  put  it,  shouting 
down  the  rest)  that  "one  of  Scougall's  yellow 
orphans  was  up  a-clinging  to  the  weathercock 
by  his  blessed  eyebrows;  and  was  this  a  time 
for  joking,  or  for  feeling  ashamed  of  themselves 
and  sending  for  a  constable  ?" 
16 


I    START   IN   LIFE 

The  drayman  shouted  and  gesticulated  so 
fiercely  with  a  great  hand  flung  upwards  that 
Mr.  Scougall,  almost  before  comprehending, 
precipitated  himself  from  the  church.  Outside 
stood  his  hired  carriage  with  its  pair  of  greys, 
but  the  driver  was  pointing  with  his  whip  and 
craning  his  neck  like  the  rest  of  the  small  crowd. 

It  may  have  been  their  outcries,  but  I  believe 
it  was  the  ringing  of  the  dockyard  bell  for  the 
dinner-hour,  which  awoke  me.  In  my  dreams 
my  arms  had  been  about  some  kindly  neck  (and 
of  my  dreams  in  those  days,  though  but  a 
glimpse  ever  survived  the  waking,  in  those 
glimpses  dwelt  the  shade,  if  not  the  presence, 
of  my  unknown  mother).  They  were,  in  fact, 
clasped  around  the  leg  of  the  weathercock.  Un- 
sympathetic support !  But  I  have  known  worse 
friends.  A  mercy  it  was,  at  any  rate,  that  I 
kept  my  embrace  during  the  moments  when 
sense  returned  to  me,  with  visions  of  the  won- 
ders spread  around  and  below. 

Truly  I  enjoyed  a  wonderful  view — across 
the  roofs  of  Plymouth,  quivering  under  the 
noon  sun,  and  away  to  the  violet  hills  of  Dart- 
moor ;  and,  again,  across  the  water  and  shipping 
of  the  Hamoaze  to  the  green  slopes  of  Mount 
17 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

Edgcumbe  and  the  massed  trees  slumbering  in 
the  heat.  Slumber,  indeed,  and  a  great  quiet 
seemed  to  rest  over  me,  over  the  houses,  the 
ships,  the  whole  wide  land.  By  the  blessing  of 
Heaven,  not  so  much  as  the  faintest  breeze 
played  about  the  spire,  or  cooled  the  copper  rod 
burning  my  hand  (and,  again,  it  may  have  been 
this  that  woke  me).  I  sat  astride  the  topmost 
crocket,  and  glancing  down  between  my  boot 
heels,  spied  the  carriage  with  its  pair  of  greys 
flattened  upon  the  roadway  just  beyond  the 
verge  of  the  battlements,  and  Mr.  Scougall  him- 
self dancing  and  waving  his  arms  like  a  small 
but  very  lively  beetle. 

Doubtless,  I  had  ascended  by  the  narrow 
stairway  of  the  crockets :  but  to  descend  by  them 
with  a  lot  of  useless  sense  about  me  would  be  a 
very  different  matter.  ~No  giddiness  attacked 
me  as  yet;  indeed  I  knew  rather  than  felt  my 
position  to  be  serious.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
of  leaving  my  perch  and  letting  myself  slip 
down  the  face  of  the  slates,  to  be  pulled  up  short 
by  the  parapet;  but  the  length  of  the  slide 
daunted  me,  and  the  parapet  appeared  danger- 
ously shallow.  I  should  shoot  over  it  to  a  cer- 
tainty and  go  whirling  into  air.  On  the  other 
18 


I    START    IN    LIFE 

hand,  to  drop  from  my  present  saddle  into  the 
one  below  was  no  easy  feat.  For  this  I  must 
back  myself  over  the  edge  of  it,  and  cling  with 
body  and  legs  in  air  while  I  judged  my  fall  into 
the  next.  To  do  this  thirty  times  or  so  in  suc- 
cession without  mistake  was  past  hoping  for — 
there  were  at  least  thirty  crockets  to  be  manoeu- 
vred, and  a  single  miscalculation  would  send  me 
spinning  backwards  to  my  fate.  Above  all,  I 
had  not  the  strength  for  it. 

So  I  sat  considering  for  a  while ;  not  terrified, 
but  with  a  brain  exceedingly  blank  and  hope- 
less. It  never  occurred  to  me  that,  if  I  sat  still 
and  held  on,  steeple-jacks  would  be  summoned 
and  ladders  brought  to  me ;  and  I  am  glad  that 
it  did  not,  for  this  would  have  taken  hours,  and 
I  know  now  that  I  could  not  have  held  out  for 
half  an  hour  inactive.  But  another  thought 
came.  I  saw  the  slates  at  the  foot  of  the  weath- 
ercock, that  they  were  thinly  edged  and  of  light 
scantling.  I  knew  that  they  must  be  nailed 
upon  a  wooden  framework  not  unlike  a  ladder. 
And  at  the  Genevan  Hospital,  as  I  have  re- 
corded, we  wore  stout  plates  on  our  shoes. 

I  am  told  that  it  was  a  bad  few  moments  for 
the  lookers-on  when  they  saw  me  lower  myself 
19 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

sideways  from  my  crocket  and  begin  to  ham- 
mer on  the  slates  with  my  toes :  for  at  first  they 
did  not  comprehend,  and  then  they  reasoned 
that  the  slates  were  new,  and  if  I  failed  to  kick 
through  them,  to  pull  myself  back  to  the  crocket 
again  would  be  a  desperate  job. 

But  they  did  not  know  our  shoe  leather.  Mr. 
Scougall,  whatever  his  fault,  usually  contrived 
to  get  value  for  his  money,  and  at  the  tenth  kick 
or  so  my  toes  went  clean  through  the  slate  and 
rested  on  the  woodwork  within.  Next  came  the 
most  delicate  movement  of  all,  for  with  a  less 
certain  grip  on  the  crocket  I  had  to  kick  a  second 
hole  lower  down,  and  transfer  my  hand-hold 
from  the  stone  to  the  wooden  lath  laid  bare  by 
my  first  kicks. 

This,  too,  with  a  long  poise  and  then  a  flying 
clutch,  I  accomplished ;  and  with  the  rest  of  my 
descent  I  will  not  weary  the  reader.  It  was  in- 
terminably slow,  and  it  was  laborious;  but,  to 
speak  comparatively,  it  was  safe.  My  boots 
lasted  me  to  within  twenty  feet  of  the  parapet, 
and  then,  just  as  I  had  kicked  my  toes  bare,  a 
steeple- jack  appeared  at  the  little  doorway  with 
a  ladder.  Planting  it  in  a  jiffy,  he  scrambled 
up,  took  me  under  his  arm,  bore  me  down  and 
20 


I    START    IN    LIFE 

laid  me  against  the  parapet,  where  I  at  first 
began  to  cry  and  next  emptied  my  small  body 
with  throe  after  throe  of  sickness. 

I  recovered,  to  find  Mr.  Scougall  and  another 
clergyman  (the  vicar)  standing  by  the  little 
door  and  gazing  up  at  my  line  of  holes  on  the 
face  of  the  spire.  Mr.  Scougall  was  offering  to 
pay. 

"But  no,"  said  the  vicar,  "we  will  set  the 
damage  down  against  the  lad's  preservation; 
that  is,  if  I  don't  recover  from  the  contractor, 
who  has  undoubtedly  swindled  us  over  these 
slates." 


21 


CHAPTER  III 

I   AM   BOUND    APPRENTICE 

ALTHOUGH  holidays  were  a  thing  unknown  at 
the  Genevan  Hospital,  yet  discipline  grew  sensi- 
bly lighter  during  Mr.  Scougall's  honeymoon, 
being  left  to  Miss  Plinlimmon  on  the  under- 
standing that  in  emergency  she  might  call  in 
the  strong  and  secular  arm  of  Mr.  George.  But 
we  all  loved  Miss  Plinlimmon,  and  never  drove 
her  beyond  appealing  to  what  she  called  our 
"better  instincts." 

Her  dearest  aspiration  (believe  it  if  you  can) 
was  to  make  gentlemen  of  us — of  us,  doomed 
to  start  in  life  as  parish  apprentices!  And  to 
this  her  curriculum  recurred  whether  it  had 
been  divagating  into  history,  geography,  astron- 
omy, English  composition,  or  religious  knowl- 
edge. "The  author  of  the  book  before  me,  a 
B.A. — otherwise  a  Bachelor  of  Arts,  but  not  on 
that  account  necessarily  unmarried — observes 
that  to  believe  the  sun  goes  round  the  earth  is 
a  vulgar  error.  For  my  part  I  should  hardly 


I    AM    BOUND    APPRENTICE 

go  so  far:  but  it  warns  us  how  severely  those 
may  be  judged  who  obtrusively  urge  in  society 
that  which  the  wise  in  their  closets  have  con- 
demned." "The  refulgent  orb — another  way, 
my  dears,  of  saying  the  sun — is  in  the  vicinity 
of  Persia  an  object  of  religious  adoration.  The 
Christian  nations,  better  instructed,  content 
themselves  with  esteeming  it  warmly,  and  as 
they  follow  its  course  in  the  heavens,  draw  from 
it  the  useful  lesson  to  look  always  on  the  bright 
side  of  things."  Humble  beneficent  soul!  I 
never  met  another  who  had  learned  that  lesson 
so  thoroughly.  Once  she  pointed  out  to  me  at 
the  end  of  her  dictation  book  a  publisher's  colo- 
phon, of  a  sundial  with  the  word  Finis  above 
it,  and,  underneath,  the  words  "Every  Hour 
Shortens  Life."  "Now  I  prefer  to  think  that 
every  hour  lengthens  it,"  said  she,  with  one  of 
her  few  smiles :  for  her  cheerfulness  was  always 
serious. 

Best  of  all  were  the  hours  when  she  read  to 
us  extracts  from  her  album.  "At  least,"  she  ex- 
plained, "I  call  it  an  album.  I  ever  longed  to 
possess  one,  adorned  with  remarks — moral  or 
sprightly,  as  the  case  might  be — by  the  choicest 
spirits  of  our  age,  and  signed  in  their  own  illus- 
23 


ADVENTURES    OP   HARRY   REVEL 

trious  handwriting.  But  in  my  sphere  of  life 
these  were  hard — nay,  impossible — to  come  by, 
so  in  my  dilemma  I  had  recourse  to  subterfuge, 
and  having  studied  the  career  of  this  or  that 
eminent  man,  I  chose  a  subject  and  composed 
what  (as  it  seemed  to  me)  he  would  most  likely 
have  written  upon  it,  signing  his  name  below, 
but  in  print,  that  the  signatures  may  not  pass 
hereafter  for  real  ones,  should  the  book  fall 
into  the  hands  of  strangers.  You  must  not 
think,  therefore,  that  the  lines  on  Statesman- 
ship which  I  am  about  to  read  you,  beginning 
'But  why  Statesmanship  f  Because,  my  lords 
and  gentlemen,  the  State  is  indeed  a  ship,  and 
demands  a  skilful  helmsman' — you  must  not 
think  that  they  were  actually  penned  by  the 
Eight  Honourable  William  Pitt.  But  I  feel 
sure  the  sentiments  are  such  as  he  would  have 
approved,  and  perhaps  might  have  uttered  had 
the  occasion  arisen." 

This  puzzled  us,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  we 
took  any  trouble  to  discriminate  Miss  Plinlim- 
mon's  share  in  these  compositions  from  that  of 
their  signatories.  Indeed,  the  first  time  I  set 
eyes  on  Lord  Wellington  (as  he  rode  by  us  to 
inspect  the  breaches  in  Ciudad  Eodrigo)  my 
24 


I    AM    BOUND    APPRENTICE 

memory  saluted  him  as  the  Honourable  Arthur 
Wellesley,  author  of  the  passage  "Though  edu- 
cated at  Eton,  I  have  often  caught  myself  envy- 
ing the  quaintly-expressed  motto  of  the  more 
ancient  seminary  amid  the  Hampshire  chalk- 
hills,  i.e.  Manners  makyth  man"',  and  to  this 
day  I  associate  General  Paoli  with  an  apos- 
trophe "O  Corsica!  O  my  country,  bleeding 
and  inanimate !"  etc.,  and  with  Miss  Plinlim- 
mon's  footnote,  "N.B. — The  author  of  these  af- 
fecting lines,  himself  a  blameless  patriot,  ac- 
tually stood  godfather  to  the  babe  who  has  since 
become  the  infamous  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  Oh, 
irony !  What  had  been  the  feelings  of  the  good 
Paoli,  could  he  have  foreseen  this  denoument, 
as  he  promised  and  vowed  beside  the  font!  (if 
they  have  such  things  in  Corsica:  a  point  on 
which  I  am  uncertain)." 

I  dwell  on  these  halcyon  days  with  Miss  Plin- 
limmon  because,  as  they  were  the  last  I  spent  at 
the  Genevan  Hospital  so  they  soften  all  my 
recollections  of  it  with  their  own  gentle  pris- 
matic haze.  In  fact  a  bare  fortnight  had  gone  by 
since  my  adventure  on  the  spire  when  I  was 
summoned  to  Mr.  ScougalPs  parlour  and  there 
25 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

found  Miss  Plinlimmon  in  conversation  with  a 
tall  and  very  stout  man :  and  if  her  eyelids  were 
pink,  I  paid  more  attention  to  the  stout  man's, 
which  were  rimmed  with  black — a  more  un- 
usual sight.  His  neck  too  was  black  up  to  a 
well-defined  line ;  the  rest  of  it,  and  his  cheeks, 
red  with  the  red  of  prize  beef. 

"This  is  the  boy — hem — Eevel,  of  whom  we 
were  speaking."  Miss  Plinlimmon  smiled  at 
me  and  blushed  faintly  as  she  uttered  the  name. 
"Harry,  shake  hands  with  Mr.  Trapp.  He  has 
come  expressly  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

Somehow  I  gathered  that  this  politeness  took 
Mr.  Trapp  aback ;  but  he  held  out  his  hand.  It 
was  astonishingly  black. 

"Pray  be  seated,  Mr.  Trapp." 

"The  furniture,  ma'am!" 

"Ah,  to  be  sure!"  Mr.  ScougaH's  freshly 
upholstered  chairs  had  all  been  wrapped  in 
holland  coverings  pending  his  return.  "Mr. 
Trapp,  Harry,  is  a — a  chimney-sweep." 

"Oh!"  said  I,  somewhat  ruefully. 

"And  if  I  can  answer  for  your  character" 
(as  I  believe  I  can),  she  said  it  with  a  wan, 
almost  wistful  smile,  "he  is  ready  to  make  you 
his  apprentice." 

26 


I    AM    BOUND    APPKENTICE 

"But  I  had  rather  be  a  soldier,  Miss  Plin- 
limmon !" 

She  still  kept  her  smile,  but  I  could  read  in 
it  that  my  pleading  was  useless — that  the  deci- 
sion really  lay  beyond  her. 

"Boys  will  be  boys,  Mr.  Trapp."  She  turned 
to  him  with  her  air  of  gentility.  "You  will 
forgive  Harry  for  preferring  a  red  coat  to — to 
your  calling."  (I  thought  this  treacherous  of 
Miss  Plinlimmon.  As  if  she  did  not  prefer  it 
herself!)  "No  doubt  he  will  learn  in  time  that 
all  duty  is  alike  noble  whether  it  bids  a  man 
mount  the  deadly  breach  or  climb — or  do  the 
sort  of  climbing  required  in  your  profession." 

"I  climbed  up  that  spire  in  my  sleep,"  said 
I  sullenly. 

"That's  just  it,"  Mr.  Trapp  agreed.  "That's 
what  put  me  on  the  track  of  ye.  'Here's  a 
tacker,'  I  said,  'can  climb  up  to  the  top  of  Em- 
manuel's in  his  sleep,  and  I've  been  wasting 
money  and  temper  on  them  that  won't  go  up  an 
ord'nary  chimbley  when  they're  wide  awake 
'ithout  I  lights  a  furze  bush  underneath  to 
hurry  them.' ' 

"I  trust,"  put  in  Miss  Plinlimmon,  aghast, 
"you  are  jesting,  Mr.  Trapp?" 
27 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

"Jesting,  ma'am?" 

"You  do  not  really  employ  that  barbarous 
method  of  acceleration  ?" 

"Meaning  furze-bushes?  Why,  no,  ma'am; 
not  often.  Look  ye  here,  young  sir,"  he  con- 
tinued, dismissing  (as  of  no  account)  this  sub- 
ject, so  interesting  to  me ;  "you  was  wide-awake, 
anyway,  when  you  came  down,  and  that  you 
can't  deny." 

"Harry,"  persisted  Miss  Plinlimmon,  "has 
not  been  used  to  harsh  treatment.  You  will 
like  his  manners :  he  is  a  very  gentlemanly  boy." 

Mr.  Trapp  stared  at  her,  then  at  me,  then 
slowly  around  the  room.  "Gentlemanly?"  he 
echoed  at  length,  in  a  wondering  way,  under  his 
breath. 

"I  have  used  my  best  endeavours.  Yes, 
though  I  say  it  to  his  face,  you  will  really — if 
careful  to  appeal  to  his  better  instincts — find 
him  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen." 

Mr.  Trapp  broke  into  a  grin  of  relief;  almost 
you  could  say  that  he  heaved  a  sigh. 

"Oh,  that's  all  ?"  said  he.  "Why,  Lord  bless 
ye,  ma'am,  I've  been  called  that  myself  before 


now." 


So  to  Mr.  Trapp  I  was  bound,  early  next 
28 


I   AM   BOUND   APPEENTICE 

week,  before  the  magistrates  sitting  in  petty 
sessional  division,  to  serve  him  and  to  receive 
from  him  proper  sustenance  and  clothing  until 
the  age  of  twenty-one.  And  I  (as  nearly  as 
could  be  guessed,  for  I  had  no  birthday)  had 
barely  turned  ten.  Mr.  Scougall  arrived  in 
time  to  pilot  me  through  these  formalities  and 
hand  me  over  to  Mr.  Trapp:  but  at  a  parting 
interview,  throughout  which  we  both  wept  copi- 
ously, Miss  Plinlimmon  gave  me  for  souvenir  a 
small  Testament  with  this  inscription  on  the 

fly-leaf:— 

H.   REVEL, 

from  his  affectionate  friend,  A.  PLINLIMMON. 

"  O  happy,  happy  days,  when  childhood's  cares 

Were  soon  forgotten  I 
But  now,  when  dear  ones  all  around  are  still  the 

same, 
Where  shall  we  be  in  ten  years'  time  ?  " 

"They  were  my  own  composition,"  she  ex- 
plained. 

Mr.  George  bade  me  a  gloomier  farewell. 
"You  might  come  to  some  good,"  he  said  con- 
templatively ;  "and  then  again  you  mightn't.  I 
ain't  what  they  call  a  pessimist,  but  I  thinks 
poorly  of  most  things.  It's  safer." 
29 


ADVENTURES    OP   HARRY   REVEL 

Mr.  Trapp  was  exceedingly  jocose  as  he  con- 
veyed me  home  to  his  house  beside  the  Barbican, 
Plymouth;  stopping  on  the  way  before  every 
building  of  exceptional  height  and  asking  me 
quizzically  how  I  would  propose  to  set  about 
climbing  it.  At  the  time,  in  the  soreness  of  my 
heart,  I  resented  this  heavy  pleasantry,  and  to 
be  sure  after  the  tenth  repetition  or  so  the  diver- 
sity of  the  buildings  to  which  he  applied  it  but 
poorly  concealed  its  sameness.  But  in  fact  he 
was  doing  his  best  to  be  kind,  and  succeeded  in  a 
sort;  for  it  roused  a  childish  scorn  in  me  and 
so  fetched  back  my  heart,  which  at  starting  had 
been  somewhere  in  my  boots. 

I  took  it  for  granted  that  a  sweep  must  in- 
habit a  dingy  hovel,  and  certainly  the  crowded 
filth  of  the  Barbican  promised  nothing  better 
as  we  threaded  our  way  among  fishermen,  fish- 
jowters,  blowzy  women,  and  children  playing 
hop-scotch  with  the  heads  of  decaying  fish.  At 
the  seaward  end  of  it,  and  close  beside  the  bow- 
fronted  Custom  House,  we  turned  aside  into  an 
alley  which  led  uphill  between  high  blank  walls 
to  the  base  of  the  Citadel :  and  here,  stuck  as  it 
were  a  martin's  nest  under  the  shadow  of  the 
ramparts,  a  freshly  whitewashed  cottage  over- 
30 


I   AM    BOUND   APPRENTICE 

hung  the  slope,  with  a  sweep's  brush  dangling 
over  its  doorway  and  the  sign  "S.  Trapp,  Chim- 
ney Sweep  in  Season." 

While  I  wondered  what  might  be  the  season 
for  chimney-sweeps,  a  small  bead-eyed  woman 
emerged  from  the  doorway  and  shook  a  duster 
vigorously:  in  the  which  act  catching  sight  of 
us,  she  paused. 

"I've  a-got  'en,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Trapp, 
much  as  a  man  might  announce  the  capture  of 
a  fish:  and  though  he  did  not  actually  lift  me 
for  inspection  his  hand  seemed  to  waver  over 
my  collar. 

But  it  was  Mrs.  Trapp  who,  after  a  fleeting 
glance  at  me,  caught  her  husband  by  the  collar. 

"And  you  actilly  went  in  that  state,  you  nasty 
keerless  hulks !  O,  you  heart-breaker !" 

Mr.  Trapp  in  custody  managed  to  send  me 
a  sidelong,  humorous  grin. 

"My  dear,  I  thought  'twould  be  a  surprise 
for  you — business  taking  me  that  way,  and  the 
magistrates  being  used  to  worse." 

"You  heart-breaker!"  repeated  Mrs.  Trapp. 

"And  me  slaving  morn  and  night  to  catch  up 

with  your  messy  ways!     What  did  I  tell  you 

the  first  time  you  came  back  from  the  Hospital 

31 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

looking  like  a  malkin,  and  with  a  clean  shift  of 
clothes  laid  out  for  you  and  the  water  on  the 
boil,  that  I  couldn't  have  taken  more  trouble, 
no,  not  for  a  funeral  ?  Didn't  I  tell  you  'twas 
positively  lowering?" 

"I  ha'n't  a  doubt  you  did,  my  dear." 

"That's  what  you  are.  You're  a  lowering 
man.  And  there  by  your  own  account  you  met 
a  lady,  with  your  neck  streaked  like  a  ham- 
rasher,  and  me  not  by — thank  goodness ! — to  see 
what  her  feelings  were ;  and  now 'tis  magistrates. 
But  nothing  warns  you.  I  suppose  you  thought 
that  as  'twas  only  fondlings  without  any  father 
or  mother  it  didn't  matter  how  you  dressed !" 

Mrs.  Trapp,  though  she  might  seem  to  talk 
at  random,  had  a  wifely  knack  of  dropping  a 
shaft  home.  Her  husband  protested. 

"Come,  come,  Maria — you  know  I'm  not  that 
sort  of  man." 

"How  do  I  know  what  sort  of  man  you  are, 
under  all  that  dirt  ?  For  my  part,  if  I'd  been 
a  magistrate,  you  shouldn't  have  walked  off  with 
the  boy  till  you'd  washed  yourself,  not  if  you'd 
gone  down  on  your  hands  and  knees  for  it ;  and 
him  with  his  face  shining  all  over  like  a  little 
Moses  on  the  Mount,  which  does  the  lady  credit 
32 


I   AM   BOUND   APPKENTICE 

if  it's  the  one  you  saw;  though  how  they  can 
dress  children  up  like  pickle-herrings  it  beats 
me.  Your  bed's  at  the  top  of  the  house,  child, 
and  there  you'll  find  a  suit  o'  clothes  that  I've 
washed  and  aired  after  the  last  boy.  I  only 
hope  you  won't  catch  any  of  his  nasty  tricks  in 
?em.  Straight  up  the  stairs  and  the  little  door 
to  the  left  at  the  top." 

"Unless" — Mr.  Trapp  picked  up  courage  for 
one  more  pleasantry — "you'd  like  to  make  a 
start  to  once,  and  go  up  by  way  of  the  chim- 
bley." 

He  was  rash.  As  a  pugilist  might  eye  a  re- 
covering opponent  supposed  to  be  stunned,  so 
Mrs.  Trapp  eyed  Mr.  Trapp. 

"I  thought  I  told  you  plain  enough,"  she  said, 
"that  you're  a  lowering  man.  What's  worse, 
you're  an  unconverted  one.  Oh,  you  nasty,  fat, 
plain-featured  fellow — go  indoors  and  wash 
yourself  this  instant !" 

I  spent  close  upon  four  years  with  this 
couple,  and  good  parents  they  were  to  me  as  well 
as  devoted  to  each  other.  Mrs.  Trapp  may  have 
been  "cracked,"  as  she  certainly  suffered  from 
a  determination  of  words  to  the  mouth:  but,  as 
33 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

a  child  will,  I  took  her  and  the  rest  of  the  world 
as  I  found  them.  She  began  to  mother  me  at 
once,  and  on  the  very  next  morning  took  my 
clothes  in  hand,  snipped  the  ridiculous  tails  off 
the  jacket,  and  sent  it,  with  the  breeches,  to  the 
dyer's.  The  yellow  waistcoat  she  cut  into  pin- 
cushions, two  for  upstairs  and  two  for  the  par- 
lour. 

Having  no  children  to  save  for,  Mr.  Trapp 
could  afford  to  feed  and  clothe  an  apprentice 
and  take  life  easily  to  boot.  Mrs.  Trapp  would 
never  allow  him  to  climb  a  ladder;  had  even 
chained  him  to  terra  firma  by  a  vow — since,  as 
she  explained  to  me  once,  "he's  an  unconverted 
man.  There's  no  harm  in  'en,  but  I  couldn't 
bear  to  have  him  cut  off  in  his  sins.  Besides, 
with  such  a  figure,  he'd  scatter." 

I  recollect  it  as  a  foretaste  of  his  kindness 
that  on  the  first  early  morning  as  he  led  me 
forth  to  my  first  experiment,  we  paused  between 
the  blank  walls  of  the  alley  that  I  might  prac- 
tise the  sweep's  call  in  comparative  privacy. 
The  sound  of  my  own  voice,  reverberated  there, 
covered  me  with  shame,  though  it  could  scarcely 
have  been  louder  than  the  cheeping  of  the  birds 

on  the  Citadel  rampart  above.     "Hark  to  that 
34 


I   AM    BOUND   APPRENTICE 

fellow,  now !"  said  my  master,  as  the  notes  of  a 
bugle  sang  out  clear  and  brave  in  the  dawn. 
"He's  no  bigger  than  you  I  warrant,  and  has  no 
more  call  to  be  proud  of  his  business."  In  time 
I  grew  bold  enough  and  used  to  begin  my 
"Sweep,  Swee — eep !"  at  the  mouth  of  the  alley 
to  warn  Mrs.  Trapp  of  our  return. 

My  first  chimney  daunted  me,  though  it  was 
a  wide  one  belonging  to  a  cottage,  short,  well 
fitted  with  climbing  brackets,  and  so  straight 
that  from  the  flat  hearth-stone  you  could  see 
a  patch  of  blue  sky  with  the  gulls  sailing  across 
it.  Mr.  Trapp  instructed  me  well  and  I  lis- 
tened, setting  my  small  jaws  to  choke  down  the 
terror :  but,  once  started,  with  his  voice  guiding 
me  from  below  and  growing  hollower  as  I  as- 
cended, I  found  that  all  came  easily  enough. 
"Bravo !"  he  shouted  up  from  the  far  side  of  the 
street,  whither  he  had  run  out  to  see  me  wave 
my  brush  from  the  summit.  In  a  day  or  two 
he  began  to  boast  of  me,  and  I  had  to  do  my 
young  best  to  live  up  to  a  reputation;  for  the 
fame  of  my  feat  on  Emmanuel  Church  spire 
was  now  all  over  the  Barbican.  Being  reckoned 
a  bold  fellow  I  had  to  justify  myself  in  fighting 
with  the  urchins  of  my  age  there;  in  which, 
35 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

and  in  wrestling,  I  contrived  to  hold  my  own. 
My  shame  was  that  I  had  never  learnt  to  swim. 
All  my  rivals  could  swim,  and  even  in  the  win- 
ter weather  seemed  to  pass  half  their  time  in  the 
filthy  water  of  Sutton  Pool  or  in  running  races, 
stark  naked,  along  the  quay's  edge. 

Our  trade,  steady  and  leisurable  until  the  last 
week  of  March,  then  went  up  with  a  rush  and 
continued  at  high  pressure  through  April  and 
May,  so  that,  dog-tired  in  every  limh,  I  had 
much  ado  to  drag  myself  to  bed  up  the  garret 
stairs  after  Mrs.  Trapp  had  rubbed  my  ankles 
with  goose-fat  where  the  climbing-irons  galled 
them.  While  this  was  doing  Mr.  Trapp  would 
smoke  his  pipe  and  watch  and  assure  me  that 
mine  were  the  "growing-pains"  natural  to 
sweeps,  and  Mrs.  Trapp  (without  meaning  it 
in  the  least)  lamented  the  fate  which  had  tied 
her  for  life  to  one.  "It  being  well  known  that 
my  birthday  is  the  15th  of  the  month  and  its 
rightful  motto  in  Proverbs  thirty-one,  'She  ris- 
eth  also  while  it  is  yet  night  and  giveth  meat  to 
her  household  and  a  portion  to  her  maidens;' 
and  me  never  able  to  hire  a  gel  at  eight  pounds 
a  year  even." 

"If  you  did,"  retorted  Mr.  Trapp,  "I  don't 
see  you  turning  out  at  midnight  to  feed  her." 


I    AM    BOUND    APPEENTICE 

Early  in  June  this  extreme  business  slack- 
ened, and  by  the  close  of  the  second  week  we 
were  moderately  idle.  On  Midsummer  morn- 
ing, to  my  vast  astonishment,  I  descended  to 
find  Mr.  Trapp  seated  at  table  before  a  bowl  of 
bread  and  milk  and  wearing  a  thick  blue 
guernsey  tucked  inside  his  trousers,  the  waist 
of  which  reached  so  high  as  to  reduce  his  braces 
to  mere  shoulder-straps.  I  could  not  imagine 
why  he,  a  man  given  to  perspiration,  should  add 
to  his  garments  at  this  season. 

Breakfast  over,  he  beckoned  me  to  the  door 
and  jerked  his  thumb  towards  the  lintel.  The 
usual  sign  had  been  replaced  by  a  shorter  one. 
"S.  Trapp.  Gone  Driving." 

"If  folks,"  said  he,  "ha'n't  the  foresight  to 
get  swept  afore  Midsummer,  I  don't  humour 
'em.  That's  my  rule." 

"Are — are  you  really  going  for  a  drive,  sir  ?" 
I  stammered. 

"To  be  sure  I  am.  I  drive  every  day  in  the 
summer.  What  do  you  suppose?" 

"It  won't  be  a  chaise  and  pair,  sir?"  I  haz- 
arded, though  even  this  would  not  have  sur- 
prised me. 

"Not  to-day.    Lord  knows  what  we  may  come 
to,  but  to-day  'tis  pilchards." 
37 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAERY    EEVEL 

He  took  me  down  to  the  quay,  and  there,  sure 
enough,  stepped  on  board  a  boat  lying  ready, 
with  two  men  in  her,  who  fended  off  and  began 
to  hoist  sails  at  once.  Mr.  Trapp  took  the  helm. 
It  turned  out  that  he  owned  a  share  in  the 
vessel  and  worked  her  from  Midsummer  to 
Michaelmas  with  a  crew  of  two  men  and  a  boy. 
The  men  were  called  Isaac  and  Morgan  (I  can- 
not remember  their  other  names),  the  one  ex- 
tremely old  and  surly,  the  other  cheerful,  curly- 
haired  and  active,  and  both  sparing  of  words. 
I  was  to  be  the  boy. 

We  baited  our  hooks  and  whiffed  for  mack- 
erel as  we  tacked  out  of  the  Sound.  And  by 
and  by  we  came  to  what  Isaac  called  the 
"grounds"  (though  I  could  see  nothing  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  the  rest  of  the  sea)  and  cast 
anchor  and  weighted  our  lines  differently  and 
caught  a  few  whiting  while  we  ate  our  dinner. 
The  wind  had  fallen  to  a  flat  calm.  After  din- 
ner Mr.  Trapp  looked  up  and  said  to  Isaac: 

"Got  a  life-belt  011  board  ?" 

"What  in  thunder  do  'ee  want  it  for  ?"  asked 
Isaac. 

"That's  my  business,"  said  Mr.  Trapp. 

So  Isaac  hunted  up  a  belt  made  of  pieces  of 
38 


I    AM    BOUND    APPRENTICE 

cork  and  then  was  ordered  to  lash  one  of  the 
sweeps  so  that  it  stuck  well  outboard.  "Now, 
my  lad/'  said  Mr.  Trapp,  turning  to  me,  "you 
been  a  very  good  lad  'pon  the  whole,  and  I  see 
you  fighting  with  the  tackers  down  'pon  the 
quay  and  holding  your  own.  But  they  can 
swim,  and  you  can't,  and  it's  wearing  your 
spirit.  So  here's  a  chance  to  larn.  I  can't  larn 
'ee  myself,  for  the  fashion's  come  up  since  I 
was  a  youngster.  Can  you  swim,  Morgan  ?" 

Morgan  could  not;  and  old  Isaac  said  he 
couldn't  see  the  use  of  it — if  you  capsized,  it 
only  lengthened  out  the  trouble. 

"Well,  then,  you  must  larn  yourself,"  said 
Mr.  Trapp  to  me.  "I've  heard  that  pigs  and 
men  are  the  only  animals  it  don't  come  to  by 
nature.  And  that's  a  scandal  however  you  look 
at  it." 

So  strip  I  did,  and  was  girded  with  the  belt 
under  my  armpits,  tied  to  a  rope,  and  slipped 
over  the  side  in  fear  and  trembling.  I  swal- 
lowed a  pint  or  two  of  salt  water  and  wept  (but 
they  could  not  see  this,  though  they  watched  me 
curiously)  I  dare  say  half  a  pint  of  it  back  in 
tears  of  fright.  I  knew  by  observation  how  legs 
and  arms  should  be  worked,  but  made  disheart- 
39 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

ening  efforts  to  put  it  into  practice.  At  length, 
utterly  ashamed,  I  was  hauled  out  and  congratu- 
lated— at  which  I  stared. 

"As  for  the  swimming"  said  Isaac,  "I  can't 
call  to  mind  that  I've  seen  worse :  but  for  pluck, 
considering  the  number  of  sharks  about  this 
season,  I  couldn't  ask  better  of  his  age." 

I  had  not  thought  of  sharks — supposed  them, 
indeed,  to  inhabit  the  tropics  only.  We  caught 
one  towards  sunset,  after  it  had  fouled  all  our 
lines,  smashing  its  head  with  the  unshipped 
tiller  as  it  came  to  the  surface.  It  measured 
five  feet  and  a  little  over,  and  we  lashed  it  along- 
side the  gunwale  and  carried  it  home  in  tri- 
umph next  morning  (having  shot  the  nets  at 
sundown  and  slept  and  hauled  them  up  empty 
at  sunrise — the  pilchards  being  scarce  as  yet, 
though  a  few  had  been  caught  off  the  Eddy- 
stone).  I  don't  suppose  he  would  have  inter- 
fered with  my  bath,  but  I  gave  myself  airs  on 
the  strength  of  him. 


40 


CHAPTER  IV 

MISS   PLINLIMMON 

LATE  in  August,  and  a  week  or  two  before  Mr. 
Trapp  changed  his  sign-board  and  resumed  his 
proper  business,  I  was  idling  by  the  edge  of  the 
Barbican  one  evening  when  a  boy,  whose  eye  I 
had  blacked  recently,  charged  up  behind  me  and 
pushed  me  over.  I  pretended  to  be  drowning, 
and  sank  theatrically  as  he  and  half  a  dozen 
others,  conveniently  naked,  plunged  to  the  res- 
cue. They  dived  for  my  body  with  great  zeal, 
while  I,  having  slipped  under  the  keel  of  a  trad- 
ing-ketch and  climbed  on  board  by  her  accom- 
modation-ladder dangling  on  the  far  side, 
watched  them  upon  her  deck  from  behind  a 
stack  of  flower-pots.  When  they  desisted,  and 
I  had  seen  the  culprit  first  treated  as  a  leper  by 
the  crowd,  then  haled  before  two  constables  and 
examined  at  length,  finally  led  homeward  by  the 
ear  and  cuffed  at  every  two  steps  by  his  widowed 
mother,  I  slipped  back  into  the  water,  dived 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

back  under  the  ketch,  and,  emerging,  asked  the 
cause  of  the  disturbance.  This  made  a  new 
reputation  for  me,  at  the  expense  of  some  emo- 
tion to  Mrs.  Trapp,  to  whom  the  news  of  my 
decease  had  been  born  on  the  swiftest  wings  of 
Rumour. 

But  I  have  tarried  too  long  over  those  days 
of  my  apprenticeship,  and  am  yet  only  at  the 
beginning.  Were  there  no  story  to  be  told  I 
might  fill  a  chapter  by  fishing  up  recollections 
of  Plymouth  in  those  days;  of  the  women,  for 
instance,  carried  down  in  procession  to  the  Bar- 
bican and  ducked  for  scolding.  A  husband  had 
but  to  go  before  the  mayor  (Mr.  Trapp  some- 
times threatened  it),  and  swear  that  his  wife  was 
a  common  scold,  and  the  mayor  gave  him  an 
order  to  hoist  her  on  a  horse  and  take  her  to  the 
ducking-stool  to  be  dipped  thrice  in  Button  Pool. 
At  last  a  poor  soul  died  of  it,  and  that  put  an 
end  to  the  bad  business.  Then  there  were  the 
press-gangs.  It  seems  incredible  now;  but  we 
scarcely  stopped  our  bathing  when  the  press, 
having  hunted  from  tavern  to  tavern,  dragged  a 
man  off  screaming  to  the  steps,  the  sailors  often 
manhandling  him  and  the  officer  joking  with 
the  crowd  and  behaving  as  cool  and  gentlemanly 
42 


MISS    PLINLIMMOtf 

as  you  please.  Mr.  Trapp  and  I  were  by  the 
door  one  evening,  measuring  out  the  soot,  when 
a  man  came  panting  up  the  alley  and  rushed 
past  us  into  the  back  kitchen  without  so  much 
as  "by  your  leave."  Half  a  minute  later  up 
came  the  press,  and  the  young  officer  at  the  head 
of  them  was  for  pushing  past  and  into  the 
house;  but  Mr.  Trapp  blocked  the  doorway, 
with  Mrs.  Trapp  full  of  fight  in  the  rear. 

"Stand  by,"  says  the  officer  to  his  men.  "And 
you,  sir,  what  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  setting 
yourself  in  the  way  of  his  Majesty's  service  ?" 

"An  Englishman's  house,"  said  Mr.  Trapp, 
"is  his  castle." 

"D'ye  hear  that  ?"  screamed  Mrs.  Trapp. 

"An  Englishman's  house,"  repeated  Mr. 
Trapp  slowly,  "is  his  castle.  The  storms  may 
assail  it,  and  the  winds  whistle  round  it,  but  the 
King  himself  cannot  do  so." 

The  officer  knew  the  law  and  drove  off  his 
gang.  When  the  coast  was  clear  we  went  to 
search  for  the  man,  and  found  he  had  vanished, 
taking  half  a  flitch  of  bacon  with  him  off  the 
kitchen  rack. 

All  those  days,  too,  throb  in  my  head  to  the 
tramp  of  soldiers  in  the  streets,  and  ring  with 
43 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

bugles  blown  almost  incessantly  from  the  ram- 
parts high  above  my  garret.  On  Sundays  Mr. 
Trapp  and  I  used  to  take  our  walk  together 
around  the  ramparts,  between  church  and  din- 
ner-time, after  listening  to  the  Koyal  Marine 
Band  as  they  played  down  Bedford  Street  and 
George  Street  after  attending  services  in  St. 
Andrew's.  If  we  met  a  soldier  we  had  to  stand 
aside;  indeed,  even  common  privates  in  those 
days  (so  proudly  the  army  bore  itself  though 
its  triumphs  were  to  come)  would  take  the  wall 
of  a  woman — a  greater  insult  then  than  now,  or 
at  least  a  more  unusual  one.  A  young  officer 
of  the  — th  Kegiment  once  put  this  indignity 
upon  Mrs.  Trapp,  in  Southside  Street:  The 
day  was  a  wet  one,  and  the  gutter  ran  with 
liquid  mud.  Mrs.  Trapp  recovered  her  balance, 
slipped  off  her  pattens,  and  stamped  them  on 
the  back  of  his  scarlet  coat — two  oval  O's  for 
him  to  walk  about  with. 

Those  were  days,  too,  which  kept  our  Plym- 
outh stones  rattling.  Besides  the  coaches — the 
"Quicksilver,"  which  carried  the  mails  and  a 
coachman  and  guard  in  scarlet  liveries,  the 
humdrum  "Defiance"  and  the  dashing  "Sub- 
scription" or  "Scrippy,"  post-chaises  came  and 
44 


MISS    PLINLIMMON 

went  continually,  whisking  naval  officers  be- 
tween us  and  London  with  despatches:  and 
sometimes  the  whole  populace  turned  out  to 
cheer  as  trains  of  artillery  waggons,  escorted  by 
armed  seamen,  marines,  and  soldiers,  horse  and 
foot,  rumbled  up  from  Dock  towards  the  Citadel 
with  treasure  from  some  captured  frigate.  I 
could  tell  too  of  the  great  November  Fair  in  the 
Market  Place  and  the  rejoicings  of  the  King's 
Jubilee  when  I  paid  a  halfpenny  to  go  inside 
the  huge  bonfire  built  on  the  Hoe:  but  all  this 
would  keep  me  from  my  story — for  which  I 
must  go  back  to  Miss  Plinlimmon. 

For  many  months  I  heard  nothing  of  this 
dear  lady,  and  it  semed  that  I  had  parted  from 
her  for  ever  when  one  evening  as  I  returned 
from  carrying  a  bag  of  soot  out  to  Mutley  Plain 
(where  a  market-gardener  wanted  some  for  his 
beds)  Mrs.  Trapp  put  into  my  hand  a  letter 
addressed  in  the  familiar  Italian  hand  to  "H. 
Revel,  residing  with  Mr.  S.  Trapp,  House  Reno- 
vator, near  the  Barbican."  It  ran : 

My  dearest  Harry. — I  wonder  if,  amid  your 
new  avocations,  you  will  take  pleasure  in  the 
handwriting  of  an  old  friend?    I  remember  you 
45 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

many  times  daily,  and  often  when  I  wake  in 
the  night,  and  commend  you  to  God  morning 
and  evening,  kneeling  on  the  place  where  your 
cot  used  to  stand,  for  I  have  no  one  now  to  care 
for  in  my  room.  There  is  little  change  in  our 
life  here ;  though  Mr.  Scougall,  as  I  foreboded, 
takes  less  heart  in  his  ministrations  and  I  should 
not  wonder  if  he  retired  before  long.  But  this 
is  between  ourselves.  Punctual  as  ever  in  his 
duties,  he  rarely  spends  the  night  here  but  de- 
parts at  six  p.m.  for  his  wife's  farm  where  Mrs. 
S.  very  naturally  prefers  to  reside.  Indeed  I 
wish  she  would  absent  herself  altogether;  for 
when  she  comes,  it  is  to  criticise  the  housekeep- 
ing, in  which  I  regret  to  say  she  does  not  main- 
tain that  generous  spirit  of  which  she  gave 
promise  in  the  veal  pies,  etc.,  of  that  ever 
memorable  morning.  I  never  condescended  to 
be  a  bride :  yet  I  feel  sure  that  had  I  done  so,  it 
would  have  given  me  an  extra  compassion  for 
the  fatherless. 

But  enough  of  myself.  My  object  in  writing 
is  to  tell  you  that  my  birthday  falls  on  Wednes- 
day next  (May  1st,  dedicated  by  the  Ancient 
Romans  to  the  Goddess  of  Flowers,  as  I  was 
vearly  reminded  in  my  happy  youth.  But  how 
46 


MISS    PLINLIMMON 

often  Fate  withholds  from  us  her  seeming 
promises ! )  It  might  be  a  bond  between  us,  my 
dear  boy,  if  you  will  take  that  day  for  your 
birthday,  too.  Pray  humour  me  in  this;  for 
indeed  your  going  has  left  a  void  which  I  can- 
not fill,  and  perhaps  do  not  wish  to,  except  with 
thoughts  of  you.  I  trust  there  used  to  be  no 
partiality:  but  for  some  reason  you  were  dearer 
to  me  than  the  others,  and  I  feel  as  if  God,  in 
His  mysterious  way,  sent  you  into  my  life  with 
meaning.  Do  you  think  that  Mr.  Trapp,  if  you 
asked  him  politely  (and  I  trust  you  have  for- 
gotten none  of  your  politeness),  would  permit 
you  to  meet  me  at  5  p.m.  on  Wednesday,  in  Mr. 
Tucker's  Bun  Shop,  in  Bedford  Street,  to  cele- 
bate  your  birthday  with  an  affectionate  friend  ? 
Such  ever  is,  AMELIA  PLINLIMMON. 

aOh,  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Trapp  when  I 
showed  him  the  letter  and  put  my  request ;  "only 
don't  let  her  swell  you  out  of  shape.  Chim- 
bleys  is  narrower  than  they  used  to  be.  May- 
day is  Sweeps'  Holiday,  too,  though  we  don't 
keep  it  up  in  Plymouth:  I  dare  say  the  lady 
thought  'pon  that.  In  my  bachelor  days  I  used 
to  be  Jack  in  the  Green  reggilar." 
47 


ADVENTURES   OF   HARRY   REVEL 

"It's  just  as  well  I  never  saw  ye,  then,"  said 
his  wife  tartly.  "And  to  imagine  that  a  lady 
like  Miss  Plinlimmon  would  concern  herself 
with  your  deboses !  But  you'd  lower  the  Queen 
on  her  throne." 

Indeed  Mr.  Trapp  went  on  to  give  some  colour 
to  this.  "I  wonder  what  she  means,  talking 
about  Koman  goddesses?"  he  mused.  "I  seen 
one,  once,  in  a  penny  show ;  and  it  was  marked 
outside  'Men  only  Admitted.' ' 

Mrs.  Trapp  swept  me  from  the  room. 

On  May-day,  then,  I  entered  Mr.  Tucker's 
Bun  Shop  with  a  beating  heart,  a  scrubbed  face 
and  a  sprig  of  southernwood  in  my  button-hole, 
and  Miss  Plinlimmon  fell  on  my  neck  and  kissed 
me.  All  the  formality  of  the  Genevan  Hospital 
dropped  away  from  her  as  a  garment,  and  left 
only  the  tender  formality  of  her  own  nature,  so 
human  that  it  amazed  me.  I  had  never  really 
known  her  until  now.  She  had  prepared  a 
feast,  including  Mr.  Tucker's  famous  cheese- 
cakes "as  patronised  by  Queen  Charlotte,"  and 
cakes  called  "maids  of  honour."  "To  my 
mind,"  said  Miss  Plinlimmon,  taking  one, 
"there  is  always  an  air  of  refinement  about  this 
shop."  She  praised  my  growth,  and  the  clean- 
48 


MISS    PLINLIMMON 

liness  of  my  skin,  and  the  care  with  which  Mrs. 
Trapp  kept  my  clothes;  and  laughed  when  I 
reported  some  of  Mrs.  Trapp's  sayings — but 
tremulously:  indeed  more  than  once  her  eyes 
brimmed  as  she  gazed  across  the  table.  "You 
cannot  think  how  happy  I  am,"  she  almost  whis- 
pered, and  broke  off  to  draw  my  attention  to  a 
young  officer  who  had  entered  the  shop,  with  two 
ladies  in  fresh  summer  gowns  of  sprigged  mus- 
lin, and  who  stood  by  the  counter  buying  sweet- 
meats. "If  you  can  do  so  without  staring, 
Harry,  always  make  a  point  of  observing  such 
people  as  that :  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  lit- 
tle hints  you  pick  up."  I  told  her,  growing  bold, 
that  I  knew  no  finer  lady  than  she,  and  never 
wanted  to — which  I  still  think  a  happy  and  high- 
ly creditable  speech  for  a  boy  of  ten.  She 
flushed  with  pleasure.  "I  have  birth,  I  hope," 
she  said,  and  with  that  her  colour  deepened,  per- 
haps with  a  suspicion  that  this  might  hurt  my 
feelings.  "But  since  our  reverses,"  she  went  on 
hurriedly,  "we  Plinlimmons  have  stood  still; 
and  one  should  move  with  the  times.  I  am  not 
with  those  who  think  good  manners  need  be  old- 
fashioned  ones."  She  recurred  to  Mrs.  Trapp. 
"I  feel  sure  she  must  be  an  excellent  woman. 
49 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

Your  clothes  are  well-kept,  and  I  read  more  in 
needlework  than  you  think.  Also  folks  cannot 
neglect  their  cleanliness  and  then  furbish  them- 
selves up  in  a  day.  I  see  by  your  complexion 
that  she  attends  to  you.  I  hope  you  are  careful 
not  to  laugh  at  her  when  she  makes  those  ludi- 
crous speeches  ?" 

But  I  shifted  the  talk  from  Mrs.  Trapp. 

"What  did  you  mean,  just  now,  by  'we/  Miss 
Plinlimmon  ?"  I  asked. 

"Did  I  say  'we'  ?" 

"You  talked  about  your  reverses — 'our  re- 
verses/ you  said.  I  wish  you  would  tell  me 
about  it:  I  never  heard,  before,  of  anyone  be- 
longing to  you." 

"  'We'  means  'my  brother  and  I/  "  she  said, 
and  said  no  more  until  she  had  paid  the  bill  and 
we  walked  up  to  the  Hoe  together.  There  she 
chose  a  seat  overlooking  the  Sound  and  close 
above  the  amphitheatre  (in  those  days  used  as 
a  bull-ring)  where  Corineus  the  Trojan  had 
wrestled,  ages  before,  with  the  giant  Gogmagog 
and  defeated  him. 

"My  brother  Arthur — Captain  Arthur  Plin- 
limmon of  the  King's  Own — is  the  soul  of  hon- 
our. I  do  not  believe  a  nobler  gentleman  lives 
50 


MISS    PLINLIMMON 

in  the  whole  wide  world:  but  then  we  are  de- 
scended from  the  great  Glendower,  King  of 
Wales  (I  will  show  you  the  pedigree,  some  day) 
and  have  Tudor  blood,  too,  in  our  veins.  When 
dear  papa  died  and  we  discovered  he  had  been 
speculating  unfortunately  in  East  India  Stock 
— 'buying  for  a  fall'  was,  I  am  told,  his  besetting 
weakness,  though  I  could  never  understand  the 
process — Arthur  offered  me  a  home  and  mainte- 
nance for  life.  Of  course  I  refused:  for  the 
blow  reduced  him  too  to  bitter  poverty,  and  he 
was  married.  And  besides  I  could  never  bear 
his  wife,  who  was  a  woman  of  fashion  and  ex- 
travtigant.  She  is  dead  now,  poor  thing,  so  we 
will  not  talk  of  her :  but  she  could  never  be  made 
to  understand  that  their  circumstances  were  al- 
tered, and  died  leaving  some  debts  and  one  child, 
a  boy  called  Archibald,  who  is  now  close  on 
twenty  years  old.  So  there  is  my  story,  Harry ; 
and  a  very  ordinary  one,  is  it  not  ?" 

"Where  does  Captain  Plinlimmon  live?"  I 
asked. 

"He  is  quartered  in  York  just  now,  with  his 

regiment:   and  Archie  lives  with  him.    He  had 

hoped  to  buy  the  poor  boy  a  commission  before 

this,  but  could  not  do  so  honourably  until  all  the 

51 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

debts  were  paid.    'The  sins  of  the  fathers '  " 

She  broke  off  and  glanced  at  me  nervously. 

But  I  was  not  of  an  age  to  suspect  why,  or  to 
understand  my  own  lot  at  all.  "I  suppose  you 
love  this  Archibald  better  than  anybody,"  said  I 
with  a  twinge  of  jealousy. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  exclaimed  quickly,  and  at  once 
corrected  herself.  "Not  so  much  as  I  ought.  I 
love  him,  of  course,  for  his  father's  sake :  but  in 
features  he  takes  after  his  mother  very  strik- 
ingly, and  that — on  the  few  occasions  I  have 
seen  him — chilled  me.  It  is  wrong,  I  know; 
and  no  doubt  with  more  opportunity  I  should 
have  grown  very  fond  of  him.  Sometimes  I  tax 
myself,  Harry,  with  being  frail  in  my  affec- 
tions :  they  require  renewing  with  a  sight  of — 
of  their  object.  That  is  why  we  are  keeping  our 
birthdays  together  to-day." 

She  smiled  at  me,  almost  archly,  putting  out 
a  hand  to  rest  it  on  mine,  which  lay  on  my  knee ; 
then  suddenly  the  smile  wavered,  her  mouse- 
eyes  began  to  brim,  I  saw  in  them,  as  in  troubled 
water,  broken  images  of  a  hundred  things  I  had 
known  in  dreams;  and  her  arm  was  about  my 
neck  and  I  nestled  against  her. 

"Dear  Harry!    Dear  boy!" 
62 


MISS    PLINLIMMON 

I  cannot  tell  how  long  we  sat  there :  certainly 
until  the  ships  hung  out  their  riding-lights  and 
the  May  stars  shone  down  on  us.  At  whiles  we 
talked,  and  at  whiles  were  silent :  and  both  talk 
and  silences  (if  you  will  not  laugh)  held  some 
such  meanings  as  they  hold  for  lovers.  More 
than  ever  she  was  not  the  Miss  Plinlimmon  I 
remembered,  but  a  strange  woman,  coming 
forth  and  revealing  herself  with  the  stars.  She 
actually  confessed  that  she  loathed  porridge ! — 
"though  for  example's  sake,  you  know,  I  force 
myself  to  eat  it.  I  think  it  unfair  to  compel 
children  to  a  discipline  you  cannot  endure  with 
them." 

She  parted  with  me  under  the  moonlit  Cita- 
del, at  the  head  of  a  by-lane  leading  to  the 
Trapps'  cottage.  "I  shall  not  write  often,  or  see 
you,"  she  said.  "It  is  seldom  that  I  get  a  holi- 
day or  even  an  hour  to  myself,  and  we  will  not 
unsettle  ourselves" — mark,  if  the  child  could 
not,  the  noble  condescension — "in  our  duties 
that  are  perhaps  the  more  blessed  for  being 
stern.  But  a  year  hence  for  certain,  if  spared, 
we  will  meet.  Until  then  be  a  gentleman  al- 
ways and — I  may  ask  it  now — for  my  sake." 

So  we  parted,  and  for  a  whole  year  I  saw 
53 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

nothing  of  her,  nor  heard  except 'at  Christmas, 
when  she  sent  me  a  closely  written  letter  of  six 
sheets,  of  which  I  will  transcribe  only  the  poeti- 
cal conclusion : — 

"  Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year 

And  why  ?  we  well  may  ask. 
Repine  not.     We  are  probably  unequal 
Unto  a  heavier  task. ' ' 


CHAPTEK  V 

THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

IT  is  not  only  children  who,  having  once  tasted 
bliss,  suppose  fondly  that  one  has  only  to  pre- 
pare a  time  and  place  for  it  again  and  it  can  be 
renewed.  But  he  must  be  a  queer  child  who 
starts  with  expecting  any  less.  Certainly  no 
doubts  assailed  me  when  the  anniversary  came 
round  and  I  made  my  way  to  Mr.  Tucker's  Bun 
Shop ;  nor  did  Miss  Plinlimmon's  greeting  lack 
anything  of  tenderness.  She  began  at  once  to 
talk  away  merrily :  but  children  are  demons  to 
detect  something  amiss,  and  although  I  did  not 
understand  it,  there  was  a  note  in  her  gaiety 
which  I  felt  to  be  strange  and  in  a  vague  way 
uncomfortable.  After  a  while  she  broke  off  in 
the  middle  of  a  sentence  and  sat  stirring  her  tea, 
as  with  a  mind  withdrawn;  recovered  herself, 
and  catching  at  her  last  words,  continued — but 
on  a  different  subject ;  then,  reading  some  puz- 
zlement in  my  eyes,  broke  off  again  and  tried  to 
55 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

cover  her  confusion  by  exclaiming,  "My  dear 
Harry,  you  have  grown  prodigiously  I" 

"Were  you  thinking  of  that  2"  I  asked,  for  I 
had  heard  it  twice  already. 

She  answered  one  question  with  another.  "Of 
what  were  you  thinking  ?" 

I  hesitated,  for  the  truth  would  not  have  been 
polite — that  I  was  thinking  how  much  older  she 
had  grown.  But  she  had,  in  appearance.  A 
year  is  a  long  time  to  a  child,  but  it  did  not 
account  to  me  for  a  curious  wanness  in  her 
colour.  Her  hair  had  grown  much  greyer  too, 
and  there  were  dark  rings  under  her  eyes.  "You 
seem  different  somehow,  Miss  Plinlimmon." 

"Do  I  ?  The  Hospital  has  been  wearing  me 
out,  of  late.  I  have  thought  sometimes  of  re- 
signing and  trying  my  fortune  elsewhere:  but 
the  thought  of  the  children  restrains  me.  I 
make  many  mistakes  with  them — perhaps  more 
as  the  years  go  on :  they  love  me,  however,  for 
they  know  that  I  mean  well,  and  it  would  haunt 
me  if  they  fell  into  bad  hands.  Now  I  am  not 
sure  that  Mr.  Scougall  would  choose  the  best 
successor.  Before  he  married  I  could  have 
trusted  his  judgment."  She  fell  a-musing  again, 
"Archibald  is  here  in  Plymouth,"  she  added  in- 
consequently.  "My  nephew,  you  know." 
56 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

I  nodded,  and  asked,  "Is  he  quartered  here  ?" 

"Why,  how  did  you  know  he  was  in  the 
army  2" 

"You  told  me  Major  Arthur  was  saving  up 
to  buy  him  a  commission." 

"How  well  you  remember!"  She  sighed. 
"The  debts  were  too  heavy.  Archibald  is  in  the 
army,  but  he  has  enlisted  as  a  private,  in  the 
105th,  the  North  Wilts  Eegiment.  His  father 
advised  it:  he  says  that,  in  these  days,  com- 
missions are  to  be  won  by  young  men  content 
to  begin  in  the  ranks,  especially  if  they  have 
birth  and  good  manners  to  recommend  them." 

"I  should  like  to  begin  in  that  way,"  said  I 
enthusiastically. 

"I  suspect  the  path  to  a  commission  is  harder 
than  you  dream,"  she  answered,  "though  in 
Archibald's  case  he  has  his  father's  record  to 
help  him,  and  (I  believe)  a  good  friend  in  Colo- 
nel Festonhaugh,  who  commands  the  North 
Wilts.  He  and  Arthur  are  old  comrades  in 
arms.  But  garrison  life  does  not  suit  the  poor 
boy,  or  so  he  complains.  He  is  a  little  sore  with 
his  father  for  subjecting  him  to  it,  and  cannot 
take  his  stern  view  about  paying  the  debts.  That 
is  natural  enough,  perhaps."  She  heaved  an- 
other sigh.  "His  regiment — or  rather  the  sec- 
57 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

ond  battalion,  to  which  he  belongs — was  ordered 
down  to  Plymouth  last  January,  and  since  then 
has  been  occupied  .with  drill  and  petty  irritat- 
ing duties  of  which  he  complains  sorely— 
though  I  believe  there  is  a  prospect  of  their  be- 
ing ordered  out  to  Portugal  before  long." 

"You  see  him  often?"  I  asked,  still  a  trifle 
jealous. 

She  seemed  to  pause  a  moment  before  an- 
swering. "Yes;  oh,  yes  to  be  sure,  I  see  him 
frequently.  That  is  only  natural,  is  it  not?" 

We  left  the  shop  and  strolled  towards  the  Hoe. 
I  felt  that  something  was  wrong,  something  in- 
terfering to  spoil  our  day;  and  felt  unreason- 
ably sure  of  it  on  finding  our  old  seat  occupied 
by  three  soldiers — two  of  them  supporting  a 
drunken  comrade.  We  made  disconsolately  for 
an  empty  bench,  some  fifty  yards  away. 

"They  belong  to  Archibald's  regiment,"  said 
Miss  Plinlimmon  as  we  settled  ourselves  to  talk. 
I  had  noted  that  she  scanned  them  narrowly. 
"Why,  here  is  Archibald !"  she  exclaimed,  a 
moment  later :  and  I  looked  up  and  saw  a  young 
red-coat  sauntering  towards  us. 

Her  tone,  I  was  foolishly  glad  to  observe,  had 
not  been  entirely  joyous.     And  Master  Archi- 
58 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

bald,  as  lie  drew  near,  did  not  seem  in  the  best 
of  tempers.  He  was  beyond  all  doubt  a  hand- 
some youth,  and  straight-limbed ;  but  apparent- 
ly a  sullen  one.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground 
and  only  lifted  them  for  a  moment  when  close  in 
front  of  us. 

"Good  afternoon,  aunt." 

"Good  afternoon,  Archibald.  This  is  Harry 
— my  friend  Harry,  of  whom  you  have  heard 
me  speak." 

He  glanced  at  me  and  gave  me  a  curt  nod. 
I  could  see  at  once  that  he  considered  me  a  nui- 
sance. An  awkward  silence  fell  between  the 
three  of  us,  broken  at  length  by  a  start  and 
smothered  exclamation  from  Miss  Plinlimmon. 

Archibald  glanced  over  his  shoulder  careless- 
ly. "Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "they  are  baiting  a  bull 
down  yonder." 

The  ridge  hid  the  bull-ring  from  us.  Dogs 
had  been  barking  there  when  we  seated  our- 
selves, but  the  noise  had  no  meaning  for  us.  It 
was  the  bull's  roar  which  startled  Miss  Plin- 
limmon. 

"Pray  let  us  go!"  She  gathered  her  shawl 
about  her  in  a  twitter.  "This  is  quite  horri- 
ble!" 

59 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

"There's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,"  he  assured 
her.  "The  brute's  tied,  fast  enough.  Don't  go, 
aunt:  I  was  wanting  a  word  with  you." 

He  glowered  at  me  again,  and  this  time  with 
meaning.  I  saw  that  he  wished  me  gone,  and  I 
moved  to  go. 

"This  is  Harry's  birthday  I  am  keeping  with 
him :  his  birthday  as  well  as  mine,  Archibald." 

"Gad,  I  forgot!  I'm  sorry,  aunt — Many 
happy  returns  of  the  day !" 

"Thank  you,"  said  she  drily.  "And  now  if 
you  particularly  wish  to  speak  to  me,  I  will 
walk  a  short  way  with  you,  but  only  a  short  way. 
Harry  meanwhile  shall  find  another  seat." 

She  rose  and  they  walked  away  side  by  side. 
I  gazed  after  them  and  then  turned  my  head  to 
look  for  a  bench  farther  removed  from  the  bull- 
ring; and,  in  doing  so,  became  aware  of  an- 
other soldier,  in  uniform  similar  to  Mr.  Archi- 
bald's, stretched  prone  on  the  turf  a  few  paces 
behind  me. 

When  I  stood  up  and  turned  to  have  a  look  at 
him,  his  head  had  dropped  on  his  arms  and  he 
appeared  to  be  sleeping.  But  I  could  have 
sworn  that  when  I  first  caught  sight  of  him  he 
had  been  gazing  after  the  pair. 
60 


THE    SHADOW    OF    AKCHIBALD 

Well,  there  was  nothing  in  this  (you  will  say) 
to  disturb  me ;  yet  for  some  reason  it  made  me 
alert  if  not  uneasy.  I  chose  another  seat,  but  at 
no  great  distance,  and  kept  him  in  view.  He 
raised  his  head  once,  stared  around  like  one  con- 
fused and  not  wholly  awake,  and  dropped  into 
slumber  again.  Miss  Plinlimmon  and  Archi- 
bald turned  and  came  pacing  back;  turned 
again  and  repeated  this  quarter  deck  walk  thrice 
or  four  times.  He  was  talking,  and  now  and 
then  using  a  slight  gesture.  I  could  not  see  that 
she  responded:  at  any  rate  she  did  not  turn  to 
him.  But  the  man  on  the  grass  occupied  most 
of  my  attention,  and  I  missed  the  parting.  An 
odd  fancy  took  me  to  watch  if  he  stirred  again 
while  I  counted  a  hundred.  He  did  not,  and  I 
shifted  my  gaze  to  find  Miss  Plinlimmon  com- 
ing towards  me  unescorted.  Master  Archibald 
disappeared. 

Her  eyes  were  red,  and  her  voice  trembled  a 
little.  "And  now,"  said  she,  "that's  enough  of 
my  affairs,  please  God !"  She  began  to  put  ques- 
tions about  the  Trapps,  and  I  told  her  that  Mrs. 
Trapp  was  spring-cleaning  and  described  how 
during  this  process  Mr.  Trapp  and  I  took  our 
meals  in  the  back-yard  under  the  Citadel  wall — 
61 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

"all  frisky,"  he  called  it  and  I  could  not  think 
why,  for  in  fact  while  it  lasted  he  wore  a  chas- 
tened air,  not  to  say  a  lugubrious.  Perhaps,  as 
we  sat  sharing  our  bread  and  bacon  under 
the  naked  rock,  the  situation  set  him  thinking. 
"Here,  but  for  the  grace  of  God,  sits  Samuel 
Trapp,  a  homeless  outcast."  His  discourse  (usu- 
ally so  cheerful)  would  at  such  times  run  on 
war-prices,  the  scarcity  of  gold,  the  famine  al- 
ready gripping  the  very  poor.  He  did  not  tell  me 
— but  I  had  learnt  it  from  the  boys  on  the  Barbi- 
can, fed  themselves  on  "sky  blue  and  sinkers" 
— that  I  was  the  luckiest  apprentice  in  the  par- 
ish. Even  the  ropey  smell  of  the  bread  they 
munched,  and  its  colour,  often  a  bright  green, 
with  mildew,  used  to  turn  my  proud  stomach. 
There  were  few  but  would  have  given  their  "hon- 
est" parentage  and  all  it  brought  them — except 
perhaps  their  liberty — for  a  mess  of  Mr.  Scou- 
galFs  porridge. 

Now,  while  I  answered  Miss  Plinlimmon's 
questions,  I  happened  to  look  along  the  flat 
stretch  of  turf  to  the  right,  in  time  to  see,  at  per- 
haps a  hundred  yards'  distance,  a  soldier  cross 
it  from  behind  and  go  hurrying  down  the  slope 
towards  the  bull-ring.  I  recognised  him  at  a 
62 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

glance.  He  was  the  black-avized  man  who  had 
pretended,  just  now,  to  be  sleeping. 

Almost  at  once,  as  I  remember  it — but  I  dare 
say  some  minutes  had  passed — a  furious  hub- 
bub arose  below  us,  mixed  with  the  yelling  of 
dogs  and  a  few  sharp  screams.  And  before  we 
knew  what  it  meant,  at  the  point  where  the 
black-avized  man  had  disappeared  he  came 
scrambling  back  into  view,  found  his  legs  and 
headed  straight  towards  us,  running  desperately, 
with  a  bull  behind  him  in  full  chase. 

I  managed  to  drag  Miss  Plinlimmon  off  the 
bench,  thrust  her  like  a  bundle  beneath  it  and 
scrambled  after  her  into  skelter  but  a  second  or 
two  before  the  pair  came  thundering  by;  for 
the  bull's  hooves  shook  the  ground,  and  so  small 
a  space — eight  or  nine  yards  at  the  most — di- 
vided him  from  the  man,  that  they  passed  in 
one  rush,  and  with  them  half  a  dozen  bull-dogs 
hanging  at  the  brute's  heels  as  if  trailed  along 
by  an  invisible  cord.  Next  after  these  pelted 
Master  Archibald,  shouting  and  tugging  at  his 
side-arm ;  and  after  him  again,  but  well  in  the 
rear,  a  whole  rabble  of  bull-baiters,  butchers,  sol- 
diers, boys  and  mongrels,  all  yelping  together 
63 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

with  excitement  and  terror,  the  men  flourishing 
swords  and  pitchforks. 

To  speak  of  the  man  first. — I  have  since  seen 
soldiers  crazed  and  running  in  battle,  but  never 
such  a  face  as  passed  me  in  that  brief  vision. 
His  lips  were  wide,  his  eyes  strained  and  almost 
starting  from  his  head,  the  pupils  turned  a  little 
backward  as  if  fascinated  by  the  terror  at  his 
heels,  imploring  help,  seeking  a  chance  to  double 
— all  three  together — and  yet  absolutely  fixed 
and  rigid. 

The  bull  made  no  account  of  us,  though  below 
the  seat  I  caught  the  light  of  his  red  eye  as  he 
plunged  past,  head  to  ground  and  so  close  that 
his  hot  breath  shook  in  our  faces  and  the  broken 
end  of  rope  about  the  base  of  his  horns  whipped 
the  grass  by  my  fingers.  Perhaps  the  red  coat 
attracted  his  rage.  But  he  seemed  to  nurse  a 
special  rage  against  the  man. 

This  appeared  when,  a  stone's-throw  beyond 
our  seat,  the  man  sprang  sideways  to  the  left  of 
his  course — in  the  nick  of  time,  too,  for  as  he 
sprang  he  seemed  to  clear  the  horns  by  a  bare 
foot.  The  bull's  heavier  rush  carried  him  for- 
ward for  several  yards  before  he  swerved  him- 
self  on  to  the  new  line  of  pursuit ;  and  this  let 
64 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

up  Master  Archibald,  who  by  this  time  had  his 
side-arm  loose. 

"Hamstring  'en!"  yelled  a  blue-shirted 
butcher,  pausing  beside  us  and  panting. 
"Quick,  you  fool — hamstring  'en!" 

For  some  reason  the  young  man  seemed  to 
hesitate.  Likely  enough  he  did  not  hear;  per- 
haps had  not  the  presence  of  mind  to  grasp  on 
the  instant  the  one  thing  to  be  done.  At  any 
rate,  for  a  second  or  so  his  arm  hung  on  the 
stroke,  and  as  the  bull  swerved  again  he  jabbed 
his  bayonet  feebly  at  the  haunch. 

The  butcher  swore  furiously.  "Murdered  by 
folly  if  ever  man  was!  Ye  bitter  fool,"  he 
shouted,  "it's  pricked  him  on,  ye've  done! 
If  ye  must  stab  his  rump,  it's  pity  ye  didn't 
stab  harder,  and  he'd  have  turned  and  skewered 
ye!" 

The  black-faced  man,  having  gained  maybe 
a  dozen  yards  by  his  manoeuvre,  was  now  head- 
ing for  the  Citadel  gate,  beside  which — so  far 
away  that  we  saw  them  as  toys — stood  a  sentry- 
box  and  the  figure  of  a  sentry  beside  it.  Could 
he  reach  this  gate  ?  His  altered  course  had  taken 
him  a  little  downhill,  to  the  left  of  the  ridge,  and 
to  regain  it  by  the  Citadel  he  must  fetch  a  slight 
65 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

loop.  Luckily  the  bull  could  not  reason:  he 
followed  his  enemy.  But  there  was  just  a 
chance  that  by  running  along  the  ridge  the  chase 
might  be  headed  off.  The  crowd  saw  this  and 
set  off  anew,  with  Master  Archibald  still  a  little 
in  front  and  increasing  his  lead.  I  scrambled 
from  under  the  seat  and  followed. 

Almost  at  once  it  became  plain  that  we  were 
out-distanced.  Alone  of  us  Master  Archibald 
had  a  chance ;  and  if  the  man  were  to  be  saved, 
it  lay  either  with  him  or  with  the  sentry  at  the 
gate. 

I  can  yet  remember  the  look  on  the  sentry's 
face  as  we  drew  closer  and  his  features  grew 
distinct.  He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  short 
roadway  which  led  to  the  drawbridge,  and  clear- 
ly it  had  within  a  few  moments  dawned  upon 
him  that  lie  was  the  point  upon  which  these  fatal 
forces  were  converging.  A  low  wall  fenced  him 
on  either  hand,  and  as  he  braced  himself,  grasp- 
ing his  Brown  Bess — a  fine  picture  of  Duty  tri- 
umphing over  Irresolution — into  this  narrow 
passage  poured  the  chase,  rolled  as  it  were  in  a 
flying  heap;  the  hunted  man  just  perceptibly 
first,  the  bull  and  Archibald  Plinlimmon  can- 
noning against  each  other  at  the  entrance.  Mas- 
66 


THE    SHADOW    OF    AECHIBALD 

ter  Archibald  was  hurled  aside  by  the  impact  of 
the  brute's  hindquarters  and  shot,  at  first  almost 
on  all-fours,  then  prone,  alongside  the  base  of 
the  wall ;  but  he  had  managed  to  get  his  thrust 
home,  and  this  time  with  effect.  The  bull  tossed 
his  head  with  a  mighty  roar,  ducked  it  again  and 
charged  on  his  prey,  who  flung  up  both  arms  and 
fell,  spent,  by  the  sentry-box.  The  sentry  sprang 
to  the  other  side  of  the  roadway  and  let  fly  his 
charge  at  random  as  box,  man,  and  bull  crushed 
to  earth  together,  and  a  dreadful  bellow  mingled 
with  the  sharper  notes  of  splintered  wood. 

It  was  the  end.  The  bullet  had  cut  clean 
through  the  bull's  spine  at  the  neck,  and  the 
crowd  dragged  him  lifeless,  a  board  of  the  sen- 
try-box still  impaled  on  his  horns,  off  the  legs  of 
the  black-avized  man — who,  at  first  supposed  to 
be  dead  also,  awoke  out  of  his  swoon  to  moan 
and  cry  feebly  for  water. 

While  this  was  fetching,  the  butcher  knelt  and 
lifted  him  into  a  sitting  posture.  He  struck  me 
as  ill-favoured  enough — not  to  say  ghastly— 
with  the  dust  and  blood  on  his  cheeks  (for  a 
splinter  had  laid  open  his  cheek)  and  his  face 
an  unhealthy  white  against  his  matted  hair.  As 
67 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

they  lifted  him,  too,  I  saw  for  the  first  time  that 
he  wore  sergeant's  stripes. 

"What's  the  poor  thing  called  ?"  some  one  in- 
quired of  the  sentry. 

The  sentry,  being  an  Irishman,  mistook  the 
idiom.     "He's  called  a  Bull,"  said  he,  stroking 
the  barrel  of  his  rifle.    "H'what  the  divvle  else  ? 
I  didn't  have  time  to  get  the  countersign." 
"But  'tis  the  man  we  mean." 
"Oh,   he's  called  Letcher — sergeant — North 
Wilts." 

Letcher  gulped  down  a  mouthful  of  water  and 
managed  to  sit  up,  pushing  the  butcher's  arm 
aside. 

"Where's  Plinlimmon?"  he  asked  hoarsely. 
"Hurt?" 

"Here  I  am,  old  fellow,"  answered  Archibald, 
reeling  rather  than  stepping  forward.  "A  crack 
on  the  skull,  that's  all.  Hope  you're  none  the 
worse?"  His  own  face  was  bleeding  from  a 
nasty  graze  on  the  right  temple  where  he  had 
struck  the  base  of  the  wall. 

"H'm?"  said  Letcher.     "Mean  it?     You'd 

better  mean  it,  by !"  he  snarled,  suddenly, 

his  face  twisted  with  pain  or  malice.     "You 

weren't  too  smart,  the  first  go.    Why  the  devil 

68 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

didn't  you  hamstring  the  brute  ?  You  heard 
them  shouting  to  you,  hey  ?" 

"That's  azackly  what  I  told  'en,"  put  in  the 
butcher. 

"Oh,  stow  your  fat  talk,  you  silly  Devon- 
shireman!"  The  butcher's  tongue  was  too  big 
for  his  mouth,  and  Letcher  mimicked  him  fero- 
ciously and  with  an  accuracy  quite  wonderful, 
his  exhaustion  considered.  He  leaned  back  and 
panted.  "The  brute  touched  me — under  the 
thigh,  here.  I  doubt  I'm  bleeding."  He  closed 
his  eyes  and  fainted  away. 

They  found,  on  lifting  him,  that  he  spoke 
truth.  The  bull  had  gored  him  in  the  leg:  a 
nasty  wound  beginning  at  the  back  of  the  knee, 
running  upward  and  missing  the  main  artery  by 
a  bare  inch.  A  squad  of  soldiers  had  run  out, 
hearing  the  shot,  and  these  bore  him  into  the 
Citadel,  Master  Archibald  limping  behind. 

The  crowd  began  to  disperse,  and  I  made  my 
way  back  to  Miss  Plinlimmon. 

"A  providential  escape !"  said  she  on  hearing 
my  report.  "I  am  glad  that  Archibald  acquitted 
himself  well."  She  went  on  to  tell  me  of  a 
youthful  adventure  of  her  own  with  a  mountain 
bull,  in  her  native  Wales. 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

Some  days  later  she  sent  me  a  poem  on  the 
occurrence : — 

"  Lo,  as  he  strides  his  native  scene, 
The  bull — how  dignified  his  mien  I 

When  tethered,  otherwise  I 
Yet  one  his  tether  broke  and  ran 
After  a  military  man 

Before  these  very  eyes  !  " 

"I  feel  that  I  have  been  more  successful  with 
the  metre  than  usual,"  she  added,  "having  been 
guided  by  a  little  poem,  a  favourite  of  mine, 
which,  as  it  also  inculcates  kindness  to  the  brute 
creation,  you  will  do  well,  Harry,  to  commit  to 
memory.  It  runs : — 

' '  If  men  and  women  only  knew 
What  sorrows  little  birds  go  through,    A 

I  think  that  even  boys 
Would  never  deem  it  sport,  or  fun, 
To  stand  and  fire  a  frightful  gun 

For  nothing  but  the  noise." 

The  shadow  of  Mr.  Archibald  seemed  doomed 
to  rest  upon  our  anniversaries.  This  second  one, 
though  more  than  exciting  enough,  had  not  an- 
swered my  expectations :  and  on  the  third  when 

I  presented  myself  at  the  Bun  Shop  it  was  to 
70 


THE    SHADOW    OF    ARCHIBALD 

learn  with  dismay  that  Miss  Plinlimmon  had 
not  arrived — for  remembering  her  accent  of  re- 
proach in  answer  to  her  nephew's  congratula- 
tions last  year,  and  fired  with  jealousy,  I  had 
walked  into  the  country  towards  Plympton  early 
that  morning  and  raided  an  orchard  under  the 
trees  of  which  I  had  noted  a  fine  crop  of  colum- 
bines, seeded  from  a  neighbouring  garden  but 
then  growing  wild.  Also  I  jingled  together  in 
my  pocket  no  less  a  sum  than  two  bright  shil- 
lings— Mr.  Trapp  having  lately  lost  the  donkey 
(of  old  age)  which  used  to  carry  his  soot  to  mar- 
ket and  promised  me  a  farthing  on  every  sack  if 
I  could  save  him  the  expense  of  a  new  animal. 
This  accounted  for  one  shilling,  and  the  other  he 
had  magnificently  handed  over  to  me  out  of  a 
wager  of  five  he  had  made  with  an  East  Country 
skipper  that  I  could  dive  and  take  the  water, 
hands  first,  off  the  jib-boom  of  any  vessel  se- 
lected from  the  shipping  then  at  anchor  in  Catte- 
water.  I  knew  that  Miss  Plinlimmon  wanted  a 
box  to  hold  her  skeins,  and  I  also  knew  the  price 
of  one  in  a  window  in  George  Street,  and  had  the 
shopman's  promise  not  to  part  with  it  before 
five  o'clock  that  evening.  I  wished  Miss  Plin- 
limmon to  admire  it  first,  and  then  I  meant  to 
71 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

enter  the  shop  in  a  lordly  fashion  and,  emerging, 
to  put  the  treasure  in  her  hands. 

So  I  paced  the  pavement  in  front  of  Mr. 
Tucker's,  the  prey  of  a  thousand  misgivings. 
But  at  length,  and  fully  half  an  hour  late,  she 
hove  in  sight. 

"I  have  been  detained,  dear,"  she  explained  as 
we  kissed,  " by  Archibald/7  she  added. 

Always  that  accursed  Archibald !  "Did  he 
wish  you  many  happy  returns?"  I  asked, 
thrusting  my  bunch  of  columbines  upon  her  with 
a  blush. 

"You  dear,  dear  boy!"  she  chirruped.  But 
she  ignored  my  question.  When  we  were  seated, 
too,  she  made  the  poorest  attempt  to  eat,  but  kept 
exclaiming  on  the  beauty  of  my  flowers. 

The  meal  over,  she  drew  out  her  purse  to  pay. 
"We  shan't  be  seeing  Mr.  Archibald  to-day  ?"  I 
asked  wistfully,  preparing  to  go. 

"You  may  be  certain ;  With  that  she 

paused,  with  a  blank  look  which  changed  to  one 
of  shame  and  utter  confusion.  The  purse  was 
empty. 

"O  Harry — what  shall  I  do  ?  There  were  five 

shillings  in  it  when I  counted  them  out  and 

laid  the  purse  on  the  table  beside  my  gloves.  I 
72 


THE    SHADOW    OF    AKCHIBALD 

was  just  picking  them  up  when — when  Archi- 
bald  "  Her  voice  failed  again  and  she 

turned  to  the  shop-woman.  "  Some  thing  most 
unfortunate  has  happened.  Will  you,  please, 
send  for  Mr.  Tucker?  He  will  know  me — by 
face  at  least.  I  have  been  here  on  several  pre- 
vious occasions ' 

I  had  not  the  smallest  notion  of  the  price  of 
eatables ;  but  I,  too,  turned  on  the  shop-woman 
with  a  bold  face,  albeit  with  a  fluttering  heart. 

"How  much  ?"  I  demanded. 

"One-and-ninepence,  sir." 

I  know  not  which  made  me  the  happier — re- 
lief, or  the  glory  of  being  addressed  as  "sir."  I 
paid,  pocketed  my  threepence  change,  and  in  the 
elation  of  it  offered  Miss  Plinlimmon  my  arm. 
We  walked  down  George  Street,  past  the  work- 
box  in  the  window.  I  managed  to  pass  without 
wincing,  though  desperately  afraid  that  the 
shopman  might  pop  out — it  seemed  but  natural 
he  should  be  lying  in  wait — and  hold  me  to  my 
bargain. 

Our  session  upon  the  Hoe,  though  uninter- 
rupted, did  not  recapture  the  dear  abandonment 
of  our  first  blissful  birthday.  Miss  Plinlimmon 
could  neither  forget  the  mishap  to  her  purse,  nor 
73 


ADVENTUEES    OF   HAKEY    EEVEL 

speak  quite  freely  about  it.  A  week  later  she 
celebrated  her  redemption  in  the  following 
stanza : — 

"  A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend  indeed, 

We  have  oft-times  heard  : 

And  King  Richard  the  Third 
Was  reduced  to  crying,  '  My  kingdom  for  a  horse ! ' 

O,  may  we  never  want  a  friend  ! 
'  Or  a  bottle  to  give  him,'  I  omit,  as  coarse. " 

She  enclosed  one-and-ninepence  in  the  mis- 
sive :  and  so  obtained  her  workbox  after  all — it 
being,  by  a  miracle,  still  unsold. 


74 


CHAPTEE  VI 

I    STUMBLE    INTO    HORROR 

IT  was  exactly  seven  weeks  later — that  is  to  say 
on  the  evening  of  June  18th,  1811 — that  as  I 
stood  in  the  doorway  whistling  "Come,  cheer  up, 
my  lads,"  to  Mrs.  Trapp's  tame  blackbird,  the 
old  Jew  slop-dealer  came  shuffling  up  the  alley 
and  demanded  word  with  my  master. 

His  name  was  Rodriguez — "I.  Rodriguez, 
Marine  Stores" — and  his  shop  stood  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  Barbican  as  you  turn  into  Southside 
Street.  He  had  an  extraordinarily  fine  face, 
narrow,  emaciated,  with  a  noble  hook  to  his  nose 
(which  was  neither  pendulous  nor  fleshy)  and  a 
black  pointed  beard  accurately  divided  by  a  line 
of  grey.  We  boys  feared  him,  one  and  all :  but 
in  a  furred  cloak  and  skull  cap  he  would  have 
made  a  brave  picture.  The  dirt  of  his  person, 
however,  was  a  scandal.  I  told  him  that  Mr. 
Trapp  had  walked  over  and  taken  the  ferry  to 
Cremyll,  where  his  boat  was  fitting  out  for  the 
75 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

summer.    "But  Mrs.  Trapp  is  washing  up  at  the 
back.    Shall  I  call  her  ?"  I  asked. 

"God  forbid!"  said  he.  "I  am  not  come  to 
listen,  but  to  speak." 

I  asked  him  then  if  I  could  take  a  message. 

"As  wine  in  a  leaky  vessel,  so  is  a  message 
committed  to  a  child.  Two  of  my  chimneys 
need  to  be  swept." 

"I  can  remember  that,  sir,"  said  I. 

He  eyed  me  in  a  way  that  made  me  feel  un- 
comfortable. "Yes;  you  will  remember,"  he 
said,  as  if  somehow  he  had  satisfied  himself. 
Yet  his  eyes  continued  to  search  me.  "You  have 
not  swept  my  chimneys  before  ?" 

"I  have  been  working  for  Mr.  Trapp  almost 
three  years,"  said  I  demurely. 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  your  face.  But  I  do  not 
often  have  my  chimneys  swept:  it  is  dreadful 
waste  of  money.  The  soot,  now — your  master 
and  I  cannot  agree  about  it.  I  say  that  the  soot 
is  mine,  that  I  made  it,  in  my  own  chimney,  with 
my  own  fuel;  therefore  it  should  be  my  prop- 
erty, but  your  master  claims  it.  I  say  the  same 
to  the  barber,  thus — 'My  hair  is  mine/  I  tell 
him,  'I  pay  you  only  to  clip  it.'  But  then  hair 
such  as  mine  is  unsaleable,  whereas  soot  fetches 
76 


I    STUMBLE    INTO    HORROR 

threepence  the  bag.  To  look  at  things  in  this 
way  is  a  principle  with  me.  Five  years  ago  I 
left  my  chimneys  unswept  while  I  argued  this ; 
but  one  of  them  took  fire,  and  so  I  lost  my  soot, 
and  the  Corporation  fined  me  five  shillings.  It 
was  terrible.  What  with  the  risk,  too,  it  turned 
my  hair  grey."  He  fell  back  a  pace  and  studied 
me  again.  "If  my  brother  Aaron  could  see  your 
face,  boy,  he  would  want  to  paint  it  and  you 
might  make  money." 

"Where  does  he  live,  sir  ?"  I  asked. 

"Eh?  Good  boy — good  boy!  He  lives  in 
Lisbon,  in  the  Ghetto  off  the  Street  of  the  Four 
Evangelists."  He  laughed,  high  up  in  his  nose, 
at  my  discomfiture.  "If  ever  you  meet  him, 
mention  my  name :  but  first  of  all  tell  your  mas- 
ter I  shall  expect  him  at  five  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning."  He  wished  me  good-night  and  shuf- 
fled away  down  the  alley,  still  laughing  at  his 
joke. 

At  five  o'clock  next  morning,  or  a  little  before, 
Mr.  Trapp  and  I  started  for  the  house.  The 
Barbican  had  not  yet  awaked  to  business.  Its 
frowsy  blinds  were  down,  and  out  on  the  Pool 
nothing  moved  but  a  fishing-boat  sweeping  in 
77 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

upon  the  first  of  the  flood,  for  a  flat  calm  outside 
had  delayed  the  night  fleet. 

At  the  entrance  of  Southside  Street,  however, 
we  almost  overtook  a  soldier  walking  towards  the 
town  on  the  opposite  pavement.  He  walked 
slowly  and  with  a  very  slight  limp,  but  seemed 
to  quicken  his  pace  a  little,  and  kept  ahead  of  us. 
The  barracks  being  full,  just  then,  many  soldiers 
had  their  billets  about  the  town,  and  that  one 
should  be  abroad  at  such  an  hour  was  nothing 
suspicious ;  but  something  familiar  in  his  back 
attracted  my  attention  and  my  eyes  were  still 
following  him  when  Mr.  Trapp  halted  and 
knocked  at  the  Jew's  door.  As  the  sound  reached 
him,  I  saw  the  man  start  and  hesitate  for  an  in- 
stant in  his  stride :  and  in  that  instant,  though 
he  did  not  turn  but  held  on  his  pace  and  was  lost 
to  sight  around  the  street-corner,  I  understood 
the  limp.  He  was  the  man  of  the  bull-chase — 
Sergeant  Letcher  (as  the  sentry  had  named  him) 
of  the  North  Wilts. 

Nobody  answered  Mr.  Trapp' s  knock,  though 
he  repeated  it  four  or  five  times.  He  stepped 
back  into  the  roadway  and  scanned  the  unshut- 
tered upper  windows.  They  were  uncurtained, 
too,  every  one,  and  grimed  with  dust:  and 
78 


I    STUMBLE    INTO    HORROR 

through  this  dust  we  could  see  rows  of  cast-off 
suits  dangling  within  like  limp  suicides. 

"Very  odd/7  commented  Mr.  Trapp.  "You're 
sure  he  said  five  o'clock  ?" 

"Sure/7  said  I. 

"Besides — five  o'clock  or  six — why  can't  the 
old  skin-flint  answer  ?" 

He  knocked  again  vigorously.  A  blind-cord 
creaked  above  us,  a  window  went  up  next  door, 
over  a  ship-chandler's,  and  a  man  thrust  out  his 
head. 

"What's  wrong  ?"  he  demanded. 

"Sorry  to  disturb  ye,  Clemow,  but  old  Rodri- 
guez, here,  bespoke  us  to  sweep  his  chimneys  at 
five,  and  we  can't  get  admittance." 

"Why,  I  heard  him  unbolt  for  ye  an  hour 
ago,"  said  the  ship-chandler.  "He  woke  me  up 
with  his  noise,  letting  down  the  chain." 

The  door  had  a  latch-handle,  and  Mr.  Trapp 
grasped  it.  "Drat  me,  but  you're  right !"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  he  pressed  his  thumb  and  the  door 
at  once  yielded.  "Huh!"  He  stared  into  the 
empty  passage  out  of  which  a  room  opened  on 
either  hand,  each  hung  with  cast-off  suits  which 
seemed  to  sway  slightly  in  the  scanty  light  ad- 
mitted by  the  shutter-holes.  "I  don't  stomach 
79 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

moving  among  these  at  the  best  of  times.  Even 
in  broad  daylight  I'm  never  too  sure  there  ain't 
a  man  hidden  in  one  of  'em.  He  might  be  dead, 
too — by  the  smell." 

He  stepped  to  the  foot  of  the  uncarpeted 
stairs.  "Mister  Rodriguez !"  he  called.  His 
voice  echoed  up  past  the  cobwebbed  landing  and 
seemed  to  go  wandering  up  and  up  among  un- 
clean mysteries  to  the  very  roof.  Nobody  an- 
swered. 

"Mister  Rodriguez !"  he  called  again,  waited, 
and  for  once — the  only  time  in  our  acquaintance 
— let  slip  an  oath.  "Let's  try  the  kitchen,"  he 
suggested.  "We  started  with  that,  last  time: 
and,  if  my  memory  holds  good,  'tis  the  only 
chimney  he  uses.  He  beds  in  a  small  room 
right  over  us,  next  the  roof,  and  keeps  a  fire 
going  there,  too,  through  the  winter:  but  the 
flue  of  it  leads  into  the  same  shaft — a  pretty 
wide  shaft  as  I  rec'llect.  About  the  other  I 
don't  know,  nor  if  he  uses  it.  Stuffs  it  full  with 
sulplus  stock,  maybe." 

We  groped  our  way  by  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case and  a  line  of  cupboards  to  the  kitchen.  The 
window  of  this — its  blind  had  been  drawn — 
looked  out  upon  a  backyard  piled  with  refuse 
80 


I    STUMBLE   INTO   HORROR 

timber,  packing-cases,  and  plaster  statuary 
broken  and  black  with  soot.  Within,  the  hearth 
had  been  swept,  after  a  fashion,  as  if  in  prepara- 
tion for  us.  On  the  dirty  table  stood  a  milk- 
jug  with  a  news-sheet  folded  and  laid  across  its 
top,  a  half -loaf  of  bread  and  a  plate  of  meat — 
but  of  what  kind  we  did  not  pause  to  examine. 
It  looked  nauseous  enough.  As  we  entered,  a 
brindled  cat  made  a  dash  past  us  and  upstairs. 
Its  unexpected  charge  greatly  unsettled  Mr. 
Trapp. 

"It  daunts  me — I  declare  it  do,"  he  confided 
hoarsely.  "But  he's  been  here,  anyway;  and 
he  expects  us."  He  waved  a  hand  towards  the 
hearth.  "Shall  I  call  again  ?  Or  what  d'ye  say 
to  getting  it  over  ?" 

"I'm  ready,"  said  I.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  in- 
side of  the  chimney  seemed  more  inviting  to  me 
than  the  rest  of  the  house.  I  was  accustomed 
to  chimneys. 

"Up  we  go  then!"  Mr.  Trapp  began  to 
spread  his  bags.  He  always  used  the  first  per- 
son plural  on  these  occasions — meaning,  no 
doubt,  that  I  took  with  me  his  moral  support. 
"The  shaft's  easy  enough,  I  mind — two  storeys 
above  this,  and  all  the  flues  leadin'  to  your  left. 
81 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

I'll  be  out  in  the  street  by  the  time  you 
hail." 

I  hadn't  a  doubt  he  would.  "One  week  to 
Midsummer!"  I  cried,  to  hearten  me — for  we 
were  both  counting  the  days  now  between  us  and 
the  fishing.  He  grinned,  and  up  I  went. 

The  chimney  was  foul,  to  be  sure,  but  beyond 
this  I  found  no  trouble  with  it.  Perhaps  I  put 
more  spirit  than  usual  into  the  job,  to  get  it 
over:  at  any  rate,  once  past  the  first  ten  or  a 
dozen  feet  I  mounted  quickly.  Towards  the  top 
the  shaft  narrowed  so  that  for  a  while  I  had  my 
doubts  if  it  could  be  squeezed  through :  but,  as 
had  happened  more  than  once  to  me,  I  found  on 
reaching  it  that  the  brickwork  shelved  inwards 
very  slightly,  though  furred  or  crusted  with  an 
extra  thick  coating  of  soot  below  the  vent. 
Through  this  I  broke  in  triumph,  sweating  from 
my  haste ;  and  brushing  the  filth  from  my  eyes, 
leaned  both  arms  on  the  chimney-top — while  I 
scanned  the  roofs  around  for  a  glimpse  between 
them,  down  to  the  street  and  Mr.  Trapp.  I  did 
so  at  ease,  for  a  flue  entered  the  main  shaft  im- 
mediately below  the  stack,  which  was  a  decided- 
ly dumpy  one — in  fact  less  than  five  feet  tall ; 
so  that  I  supported  myself  not  by  the  arms  alone 


I    STUMBLE    INTO    HORROB 

but  by  resting  my  toes  on  the  ridge  where  flue 
and  shaft  met. 

Now,  as  the  reader  will  remember,  it  was  the 
height  of  summer,  and  the  day  had  brightened 
considerably  since  we  entered  the  house.  The 
sudden  sunshine  set  me  blinking,  and  while  I 
cleared  my  eyes  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  man — 
a  dark  figure — something,  at  any  rate,  a  some- 
thing a  great  deal  too  large  to  be  mistaken  for  a 
cat — stole  from  under  the  gable  above  which  my 
chimney  rose  and  swiftly  crossing  a  patch  of  flat 
leaded  roof  to  the  right,  disappeared  around  a 
chimney  stack  on  the  far  side  of  it. 

I  stopped  rubbing  my  eyes  and  stared  at  the 
stack.  It  was  a  tall  one,  rising  from  a  good  fif- 
teen feet  below  almost  to  a  level  with  mine, 
and  I  could  not  possibly  look  over  it.  Some- 
thing, I  felt  sure,  lurked  behind  it,  and  my  ears 
seemed  to  hold  the  sound  of  a  soft  footstep.  I 
forgot  Mr.  Trapp.  By  pulling  myself  a  little 
higher  I  could  get  a  better  view,  not  of  the  stack, 
but  of  the  stretch  of  roof  beyond  it;  nobody 
could  break  cover  in  that  direction  and  escape 
me.  I  took  a  firm  grip  on  the  corroded  bricks 
and  heaved  on  them. 

Next  moment  they  had  given  way  under  my 
83 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

hands,  falling  inwards :  and  I  was  falling  with 
them. 

I  kicked  out,  striving  to  find  again  with  my 
toes  the  ridge  where  the  flue  joined  the  shaft — 
missed  it — and  went  shooting  down  to  the  left 
through  a  smother  of  soot. 

The  total  fall — or  slide,  rather — was  not  a 
severe  one,  after  all;  twenty  feet,  perhaps, 
though  uncomfortable  enough  for  sixty.  I 
pulled  myself  up  quite  suddenly,  my  feet  resting 
on  a  ledge  which,  as  I  shook  the  soot  off  and  re- 
covered my  wits,  turned  out  to  be  the  upper  sill 
of  a  grate.  Then,  growing  suddenly  cautious 
when  the  need  for  caution  was  over,  I  descended 
the  next  foot  or  two  back  foremost,  as  one  goes 
down  a  ladder,  and  jumped  out  into  the  room 
clear  of  the  hearthstone. 

And  with  that,  as  I  turned,  a  scream  rose  to 
my  throat  and  died  there.  I  had  almost  jumped 
upon  the  stretched-out  body  of  a  man. 


84 


CHAPTER  VII 

I    ESCAPE    FROM    THE    JEW'S    HOUSE 

IT  was  Mr.  Eodriguez.  He  lay  face-downward 
and  slantwise  across  the  front  of  the  hearth,  with 
arms  spread,  fingers  hooked,  and  his  neck  pro- 
truding from  the  collar  of  his  dingy  dressing- 
gown  like  a  plucked  fowl's.  He  had  cast  a  slip- 
per in  falling  and  the  flesh  of  one  heel  showed 
through  its  rent  stocking.  For  a  moment  I  sup- 
posed him  in  a  fit;  the  next,  I  was  recoiling 
towards  the  wall,  away  from  a  dark  moist  line 
which  ran  from  under  his  left  arm-pit  and  along 
the  uneven  boards  to  the  far  corner  by  the  win- 
dow, and  there,  under  a  disordered  truckle-bed, 
spread  itself  in  a  pool. 

With  my  eyes  glued  upon  this  horrid  sight  I 
slowly  straightened  myself  up — having  crouched 
back  until  I  felt  the  wall  behind  me — and  so 
grew  aware  of  a  door  beside  the  chimney  breast, 
and  that  it  stood  ajar  upon  the  empty  landing. 
85 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

The  dead  man's  heels  pointed  towards  it,  his 
head  towards  the  window  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

And  still  my  shaken  wits  could  not  grasp — 
could  scarcely  clutch  at — the  meaning  of  what  I 
saw.  I  only  felt  that  there  was  something  hor- 
rible, menacing,  hideously  malignant  in  the  fig- 
ure at  my  feet :  only  craved  for  strength  of  will 
to  dash  by  it,  reach  the  door  and  fling  myself 
down  the  stairs — anywhere — away  from  it. 
Had  it  stirred  I  believe  it  had  then  and  there 
destroyed  my  reason,  and  for  life. 

But  it  did  not  stir.  And  all  the  while  I  knew 
that  the  thing  lay  with  its  breast  in  a  bath  of 
blood ;  that  it  had  been  stabbed  in  the  back  and 
the  blood  welling  down  under  the  clothes  had 
gathered  in  a  pool,  ready  to  gush  and  spread  on 
all  sides  as  soon  as  the  body  should  be  lifted  or 
its  attitude  interfered  with.  I  cannot  tell  how 
I  found  time  to  reason  this  out ;  but  I  did. 

I  knew,  too,  that  I  could  not  scream  aloud  if 
I  tried:  but  I  had  no  desire  to  try.  It  might 
wake  and  lift  up  its  head.  I  felt  backwards 
with  my  hand  along  the  wall,  groping  uncon- 
sciously for  something  to  aid  my  spring  towards 
the  door — but  desisted.  For  the  moment  I  could 
not  move. 


I    ESCAPE    FEOM    THE    JEW'S    HOUSE 

With  that — either  this  was  all  a  dream  or  I 
heard  footsteps  on  the  flat  roof  outside;  very 
slow,  soft  footsteps,  too,  as  of  somebody  walking 
on  tip-toe.  But  if  on  tip-toe,  why  was  he  com- 
ing towards  me  ?  Yet  so  it  was ;  my  ear  told  me 
distinctly. 

As  his  feet  crunched  the  leads  close  outside 
the  window  I  caught  a  gleam  of  scarlet;  then 
the  frame  grew  dark  between  me  and  the  day- 
light, and  through  the  pane  a  man  peered  cau- 
tiously into  the  room. 

It  was  Archie  Plinlimmon. 

He  peered  in,  turning  his  face  sideways  for 
a  better  view  and  shading  it,  after  a  moment, 
with  his  hand.  So  shaded,  and  with  the  day- 
light behind  it,  his  face  after  that  first  instant 
became  an  inscrutable  blur. 

But  while  he  peered  speech  broke  from  me— 
words  and  a  wild  laugh. 

"Look  at  it !  Look  at  it !"  I  cried,  and 
pointed. 

He  drew  back  instantly,  and  was  gone. 

"Don't  leave  me!  Mr.  Plinlimmon — please 

don't  leave  me !"    I  made  a  leap  for  the  window 

— halted  helplessly — and  fell  back  again  from 

the  body.     I  was  alone  again.     But  power  to 

87 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

move  had  come  back,  and  I  must  use  it  while  it 
lasted.    If  I  could  gain  the  stairs  now  .  .  . 

Stealthily,  and  more  stealthily  as  the  fear  re- 
turned and  grew,  I  reached  the  door,  pushed  it 
open,  and  looked  out  on  the  landing.  But  for  a 
worm-eaten  trunk  and  a  line  of  old  suits  dan- 
gling from  pegs  around  the  wall,  it  was  bare. 
The  little  light  filtered  through  a  cracked  and 
discoloured  window  high  up  in  the  slope  of  the 
roof.  The  stairhead  lay  a  short  two  yards  from 
me,  to  be  reached  by  one  bold  leap. 

This,  however,  was  not  what  I  first  saw ;  nay, 
how  or  when  I  saw  it  is  a  wonder  still.  For, 
across  the  landing,  a  door  faced  me;  and,  as  I 
pushed  mine  open,  this  door  had  moved — was 
moving  yet,  as  if  to  shut. 

It  did  not  quite  shut.  It  came  to  a  standstill 
when  almost  a  foot  ajar.  Within  I  could  see 
yet  other  suits  of  clothes  hanging:  and  among 
these  lurked  someone,  watching  me  perhaps 
through  the  chink  by  the  hinges.  I  was  sure  of 
it — was  almost  sure  I  had  seen  a  hand  on  the 
edge  of  the  door ;  a  hand  with  a  ring  on  one  of 
its  fingers,  and  just  the  edge,  and  no  more,  of  a 
dark  cuff. 

For  perhaps  five  seconds  I  endured  it,  my 
88 


I   ESCAPE    FROM    THE   JEW'S    HOUSE 

hair  lifting:  then,  with  one  sharp  scream  I 
dashed  back  into  the  room  and  across  the  corpse, 
struggled  for  a  moment  with  the  window-sash 
and  flinging  it  up,  dropped  out — more  dead  than 
alive — upon  the  leads. 

Out  there,  in  the  reviving  sunshine,  my  first 
thought  was  to  crawl  away  as  fast  and  as  far  as 
possible;  to  reach  some  hiding-place  where  I 
might  lie  down  and  pant  unpursued  by  the  hor- 
rors of  that  house.  The  roofs  on  my  right  were 
flat  and  I  staggered  along  them,  halting  now  and 
again  and  leaning  a  hand  for  support  against 
one  or  other  of  the  chimney-stacks,  now  growing 
warm  in  the  sunshine. 

From  the  far  side  of  one,  as  I  leaned  clinging, 
a  man  sprang  up,  almost  at  my  feet.  It  was 
Archie  Plinlimmon  again.  He  had  been  flat- 
tening himself  against  its  shadow  and  at  first — 
so  white  and  fierce  was  his  face — I  made  sure 
he  meant  to  hurl  me  over  and  on  to  the  street  be- 
low. 

"What  do  you  want  ?  What  have  you  seen  ?" 
Though  he  spoke  fiercely,  his  teeth  chattered. 
"Oh — it's  you !"  he  exclaimed,  recognising  me. 

"Mr.  Plinlimmon "  I  began. 

"I  didn't  do  it.    I  didn't "    He  broke  off . 

89 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

"For  God's  sake,  how  are  we  to  get  down  out  of 
this?" 

He  took  me  up  short.  "The  street  ?  We  can't 
go  that  way — it's  as  much  as  my  neck's  worth. 
Yours,  too." 

"Mr.  Trapp's  waiting  for  me,"  I  answered 
stupidly. 

"The  devil  knows  who  isn't  waiting,"  he 
snapped.  "We'll  have  to  cut  out  of  this."  He 
pointed  downwards  on  the  side  away  from  the 
street.  "I  say,  what  happened  ?  Who  did  it, 
eh?". 

"I  slipped  in  the  chimney,"  I  answered  again. 
"He  wanted  his  chimneys  swept  this  morning. 
We  knocked — Mr.  Trapp  and  I — and  no  one  an- 
swered :  then  we  tried  the  door,  and  it  opened. 
There  was  no  one  about,  and  no  one  in  the  street 
but  Sergeant  Letcher." 

He  began  to  shake.  "Sergeant  Letcher? 
What  do  you  know  about  Sergeant  Letcher  ?" 

"Nothing  except  that  he  was  in  the  street — 
the  man  the  bull  chased,  you  know." 

He  was  shaking  yet.     "I  ought  to  kill  you," 
said  he.     "But  I  didn't  do  it.    Look  here,  show 
me  a  way  down  and  I'll  let  you  off.     You're 
used  to  this  work,  ain't  you  ?" 
90 


I   ESCAPE    FKOM    THE   JEW'S   HOUSE 

"How  did  you  come  up  ?"  I  asked,  innocently 
enough. 

"By  the  Lord,  if  you  ask  questions  I'll  stran- 
gle you !  You  were  in  the  room  with — with  it. 
I  saw  you :  I'll  swear  I  saw  you.  Get  me  down 
out  of  this,  and  hide — get  on  board  some  ship, 
and  clear.  See  ?  If  you  breathe  a  word  that 
you've  seen  me,  I'll  cut  your  heart  out.  You 
understand  me  ?" 

I  hadn't  a  doubt  then  that  he  was  guilty, 
somehow.  His  fear  was  too  craven.  "There's 
a  warehouse  at  the  end  here,"  said  I,  and  led  the 
way  to  it.  But  when  we  reached  it,  its  roof  rose 
in  a  sharp  slope  from  the  low  parapet  guarding 
the  leads  where  we  stood. 

"But  I  can't  see,"  he  objected;  "and  any- 
way, I  can't  manage  that." 

I  pointed  to  a  louver  skylight  half  way  up 
the  roof.  "We  can  prise  that  open,  or  break 
it.  It's  easy  enough  to  reach,"  I  assured 
him. 

He  was  extraordinarily  clumsy  on  the  slates, 
but  obeyed  my  instructions  like  a  child.  I 
wrenched  at  the  wooden  louvers. 

"Got  a  knife?"  I  asked. 

He  produced  one — an  ugly-looking  weapon, 
91 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

but  clean.  By  good  luck,  we  did  not  need  it; 
for  as  he  passed  it  to  me,  the  louver  at  which  I 
was  tugging  broke  and  came  away  in  my  hand. 
We  easily  loosened  another  and,  squeezing 
through,  dropped  into  the  loft  upon  a  sliding 
pile  of  grain. 

The  loft  was  dark  enough,  but  a  glimmer  of 
light  shone  through  the  chinks  of  a  door  at  the 
far  end.  Unbolting  it,  we  looked  down,  from 
the  height  of  thirty  feet  or  so,  into  a  deserted 
lane.  Or  rather,  /  looked  down:  for  while  I 
fumbled  with  the  bolts,  Master  Archie  had 
banged  his  head  into  something  hard  and 
dropped,  rubbing  the  hurt  and  cursing. 

It  proved  to  be  the  timber  cross-piece  of  a 
derrick,  used  for  hoisting  sacks  of  grain  into  the 
loft,  working  on  axle,  and  now  swung  inboard 
for  the  night.  A  double  rope  ran  through  the 
pulley  at  its  end  and  had  been  hitched  back  over 
the  iron  winch  which  worked  it.  We  pushed  the 
derrick  out  over  the  lane  and  I  manned  the 
winch-handle,  while  Master  Archie  caught  hold 
of  the  hook  and  pulley  at  the  end  of  the  double 
line.  Checking  the  handle  with  all  my  strength 
I  lowered  him  as  noiselessly  as  I  could.  As  his 
feet  touched  the  cobbles  below  he  let  go  and, 
92 


I   ESCAPE    FROM   THE   JEW'S    HOUSE 

without  a  thought  of  my  safety,  made  off  down 
the  lane. 

I  tugged  the  derrick  inboard  and  recapt- 
ured the  rope;  cogged  the  winch,  swung  out, 
dropped  hand  over  hand  into  the  lane,  and 
raced  up  it  with  all  the  terrors  of  the  law  at  my 
heels. 


93 


CHAPTEK  VIII 

POOR   TOM  BOWLING 

MASTER  ARCHIBALD'S  advice  to  me — to  escape 
down  to  the  waterside  and  conceal  myself  on 
shipboard — though  acute  enough  in  its  way,  took 
no  account  of  certain  difficulties  none  the  less 
real  because  a  soldier  would  naturally  overlook 
them.  To  hide  in  a  ship's  hold  may  be  easy ;  but 
you  must  first  get  on  board  of  her  unobserved, 
which  in  broad  daylight  is  next  to  impossible. 
Moreover  to  reach  Cattewater  I  must  either  fetch 
a  circuit  through  purlieus  where  every  house- 
holder knew  me  and  every  urchin  was  a  nodding 
acquaintance,  or  make  a  straight  dash  close  by 
the  spot  where  by  this  time  Mr.  Trapp  would  be 
getting  anxious — if  indeed  Southside  Street  and 
the  Barbican  were  not  already  resounding  with 
the  hue  and  cry.  ~No ;  if  friendly  vessel  were  to 
receive  and  hide  me  she  lay  far  off  across  the 
heart  of  the  town  amid  the  shipping  of  the  Dock, 
and  in  that  direction  I  headed.  Yonder,  too, 
94 


POOR   TOM   BOWLING 

Miss  Plinlimmon  resided.  If  you  think  it  ab- 
surd that  my  thoughts  turned  to  her,  whose  weak 
arms  could  certainly  shield  no  one  from  the 
clutch  of  the  law,  I  beg  you  to  remember  my  age 
and  that  I  had  never  known  another  protector. 

She  at  least  would  hear  me  and  never  doubt 
my  innocence.  She  must  hear,  too,  of  Archie's 
danger. 

That  to  reach  her,  even  if  I  eluded  pursuit  to 
the  Hospital  gate,  I  must  run  the  gauntlet  of  Mr. 
George — who  would  assuredly  ask  questions — 
and  possibly  of  Mr.  Scougall,  scarcely  occurred 
to  me.  My  head,  as  yet,  was  not  clear  enough  for 
this.  To  reach  her — to  sob  out  my  story  in  her 
arms  and  hear  her  voice  soothing  me — this  only 
I  desired  for  the  moment ;  and  it  seemed  that  if 
I  could  only  hear  her  voice  speaking  I  might 
wake  and  feel  these  horrors  dissolve  like  an  evil 
dream.  Meanwhile,  I  ran. 

But  at  the  end  of  a  lane  leading  into  Treville 
Street,  and  as  I  leapt  aside  to  avoid  colliding 
with  the  hind  wheels  of  a  hackney  coach,  drawn 
in  there  and  at  a  standstill  close  by  the  kerb,  to 
my  unspeakable  fright,  I  felt  myself  gripped  by 
the  jacket-collar. 

"Hi !  Bring-to  and  Vast  kicking,  young  coal- 
95 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

dust !  Whe're  ye  bound,  hey  ?  Answer  me,  and 
take  your  black  mop  out  of  a  gentleman's  wes- 
kit!" 

"To — to  Dock,  sir/'  I  stammered.  "Let 
me  go,  please.  I'm  in  a  hurry." 

My  captor  held  me  out  at  arm's  length  and 
eyed  me.  He  was  a  sailor,  and  rigged  out  in  his 
best  shore-going  clothes — tarpaulin  hat,  blue  coat 
and  waistcoat,  and  a  broad  leathern  belt  to  hold 
up  his  duck  trousers,  on  which  my  sooty  head  had 
left  its  mark.  He  seemed  to  bear  no  malice, 
however,  but  grinned  at  me  good-naturedly.  I 
saw  that  he  had  been  drinking. 

"In  a  hurry  ?  There,  now,  if  I  hadn't  a'most 
guessed  it!  And  what's  your  hurry  about? 
Business  ?" 

"Ye-es,  sir." 

"'Stonishing  what  spirit  boys'll  put  into 
work  nowadays!  I've  seen  boys  run  for  a  leg 
o'  mutton,  and  likewise  I've  seen  'em  run  when 
they've  broken  ship ;  but  on  the  path  o'  duty,  my 
sonny,  you've  the  legs  of  any  boy  in  my  ex-peri- 
ence.  Well,  for  once  you'll  put  pleasure  first; 
I'm  bound  for  Dock  or  thereabouts  myself,  and 
under  convoy."  He  waved  his  hand  up  the 
street,  where  twelve  or  fifteen  hackney  coaches 
96 


POOR   TOM   BOWLING 

stood  in  line  ahead  of  the  one  into  which  I  had 
almost  blundered. 

"If  you  please,  sir " 

He  threw  open  the  coach  door.  "Jump  in. 
The  frigate  sets  the  rate  o'  sailing.  That's 
Bill." 

I  hesitated,  rebellious,  staring  at  him  and  not 
in  the  least  understanding. 

"That's  Bill.  Messmate  o'  mine  on  the  Bed- 
ford, and  afore  that  on  the  Vesuvius  bomb. 
There,  sonny — don't  stand  gaping  at  me  like  a 
stuck  pig;  I  never  expected  ye  to  know  him! 
And  now  the  time's  past,  and  ye'll  go  far  afore 
finding  a  better.  Bill  Adams  his  name  was ;  but 
Bill  to  me,  always,  and  in  all  weathers."  Here 
for  a  moment  he  became  somewhat  maudlin. 
"Paid  off  but  three  days  agone,  same  as  myself, 
and  now — cut  down  like  a  flower.  All  flesh  is 
grass.  He's  a  corpse,  ahead,  in  the  first  convey- 
ance." 

"Is  this  a  funeral,  sir  ?"  I  managed  to  ask. 

"Darn  your  eyes,  don't  it  look  like  one  ?  And 
after  the  expense  I've  been  to—  He  paused, 
eyed  me  solemnly,  opened  his  mouth,  and 
pointed  down  it  with  his  forefinger.  "Drink 
done  it."  His  voice  was  impressive.  "Steer 
97 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

you  wide  of  the  drink,  my  lad;  or  else  drop 
down  on  it  gradual.  If  drink  must  be  your 
moorings,  don't  pick  'em  up  too  rash.  'A  boiled 
leg  o'  mutton  first/  says  I,  persuasive-like ;  'and 
turnips,'  and  got  him  to  Symonds's  boarding- 
house  on  purpose,  Symonds  being  noted.  Sy- 
monds — I'll  do  him  that  justice — says  the  same. 
Symonds  says ' 

But  at  this  point  a  young  woman — and 
pretty,  too,  but  daubed  with  paint — thrust  her 
hat  and  head  out  of  a  window,  three  carriages 
away,  and  demanded  to  know  what  in  the  name 
of  Moses  they  were  waiting  for. 

"Signals,  my  dear.  The  flagship's  forrad, 
and  keep  your  eye  lifting  that  way,  if  you 
please !  I'm  main  glad  you  fell  in  with  us,"  he 
went  on  affably,  turning  to  me;  because  you 
round  it  up  nicely.  Barring  the  sharks  in  black 
weepers,  you're  the  only  mourning-card  in  the 
bunch,  and  I'll  see  you  get  a  good  position  at  the 
grave." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  I,  feeling  pretty  des- 
perate. 

"Don't  mention  it.  We're  doin'  our  best. 
When  poor  Bill  dropped  down  in  Symonds's" — 
he  jerked  his  thumb  towards  the  boarding-house 
98 


POOR   TOM   BOWLING 

door — "Symonds  himself  was  for  turning 
everyone  out.  Very  nice  feeling  he  showed,  I  will 
say.  'Damn  it,  here's  a  go  !'  he  says ;  'and  the 
man  looked  healthy  enough  for  another  ten  year, 
with  proper  care  !' — and  went  off  at  once  to  stop 
the  fiddlers  and  put  up  the  shutters.  But  of 
course  it  meant  a  loss  to  him,  the  place  being 
full ;  and  I  felt  a  sort  of  responsibility  for  hav- 
ing introduced  Bill.  So  I  went  after  him  and 
says  I:  'This  is  a  most  unforeseen  occurrence/ 
'Not  a  bit/  says  he;  'accidents  will  happen.'  I 
told  him  that  the  corpse  had  never  been  a  wet 
blanket,  it  wasn't  his  nature ;  and  I  felt  sure  he 
wouldn't  like  the  thought.  'If  that's  the  case,' 
says  Symonds,  'I've  a  little  room  at  the  back 
where  he'd  go  very  comfortable — quite  shut  off, 
as  you  might  say.  We  must  send  for  the  doctor, 
of  course,  and  the  coroner  can  sit  on  him  to-mor- 
row— that  is,  if  you  feel  sure  deceased  wouldn't 
think  it  any  disrespect.'  'Disrespect?'  says  I. 
'You  didn't  know  Bill.  Why,  it's  what  he'd 
arsk  for !'  So  then  we  carried  him,  and  I  sent 
for  the  undertaker  same  time  as  the  doctor  and 
ordered  it  of  oak;  and  next  morning  down  I 
tramped  to  Dock  and  chose  out  a  grave,  brick- 
lined,  having  heard  him  say  often  'Plymouth 
99 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

folk  for  wasting,  but  Dock  folk  for  lasting.'  I 
won't  say  but  what,  between  whiles,  we've  been 
pretty  lively  at  Symonds's;  and  I  won't  say — 
Hullo!  here's  more  luck!  Your  servant,  sir!" 

He  stepped  forward — leaving  me  shielded 
and  half-hidden  by  the  coach  door — and  ac- 
costed a  stranger  walking  briskly  up  the  pave- 
ment towards  us  with  a  small  valise  in  his 
hand;  a  gentlemanly  person  of  about  thirty- 
five  or  forty  in  clerical  suit  and  bands. 

"Eh  ?  Good  morning !"  nodded  the  clergy- 
man affably. 

"Might  I  arsk  where  you're  bound  ?"  Then, 
after  a  pause,  "My  name's  Jope,  sir — Benjamin 
Jope,  of  the  Bedford,  seventy-four  bo'sun's 
mate — now  paid  off." 

The  clergyman,  at  first  taken  aback — as  I 
could  see — by  the  sudden  question,  recovered 
his  smile.  "And  mine,  sir,  is  Whitmore — the 
Reverend  John  Whitmore — bound  just  now  in 
the  direction  of  the  Dock.  Can  I  serve  you 
thereabouts  ?" 

Mr.  Jope  waved  his  hand  towards  the  coach 
door.  "Jump  inside,  and  I'll  take  you  along. 
Oh,  you  needn't  be  ashamed  to  ride  behind 
Bill!" 

100 


POOR    TOM    BOWLING 

"But  who  is  Bill  ?"  The  Eev.  Mr.  Whitmore 
showed  some  natural  hesitation  and  advanced 
to  the  coach  door  like  a  man  in  two  minds.  "Ah, 
I  see — a  funeral!"  he  exclaimed,  as  a  mute  ad- 
vanced— assailed  from  each  coach  window,  as  he 
passed,  with  indecorous  obloquy — to  announce 
that  the  cortege  was  ready  to  start.  For  the  last 
two  minutes  heads  had  been  popping  out  at 
these  windows — heads  with  dyed  ringlets  and 
heads  with  artistically  coloured  noses — and  their 
owners  demanding,  with  brisk  and  various  pro- 
fanity, if  Ben  Jope  meant  to  keep  them  there 
all  day,  if  the  corpse  was  expected  to  lead  off  the 
ball,  and  so  on;  and  I,  cowering  by  the  coach 
step,  had  shrunk  from  their  gaze  as  I  flinched 
now  under  Mr.  Whitmore's. 

"Hullo!"  said  he,  and  gave  me  (as  I 
thought)  a  searching  look.  "What's  this?  A 
chimney-sweep  ?" 

"If  your  reverence  will  not  object  to  his  com- 
pany ?" 

I  turned  my  eyes  away,  but  felt  that  this 
clergyman  was  studying  me.  "Not  at  all,"  said 
he  quietly  after  a  moment's  pause.  "Is  he 
bound  for  Dock,  too  ?" 

"He  said  so." 

101 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

"Eh  ?  Did  he  ?  Then  we'll  see  that  he  gets 
there.  After  you,  youngster — jump  in!"  To 
my  terror  the  words  seemed  charged  with  mean- 
ing, but  I  dared  not  look  him  in  the  face.  I 
clambered  in  and  dropped  into  a  seat  with  my 
back  to  the  driver.  He  placed  himself  opposite, 
nursing  the  valise  on  his  knees.  Ben  Jope  came 
last  and  slammed-to  the  door  after  him.  "Way- 
oh !"  he  shouted ;  "easy  canvas  I"  and  with  that 
plunged  down  beside  me,  took  off  his  tarpaulin 
hat,  extracted  a  handkerchief  from  its  crown, 
and  carefully  wiped  his  brow  and  the  back  of  his 
neck. 

"Well!"  he  sighed.  "Bill's  launched,  any- 
how." 

"Shipmate  ?"  asked  the  clergyman. 

"Messmate,"  answered  Mr.  Jope ;  and,  being 
hurried  in  his  explanations,  opened  his  mouth 
and  pointed  down  it  with  his  forefinger.  "Not 
that  a  better  fellow  ever  lived,"  he  made  haste 
to  explain. 

"I  can  quite  believe  it,"  said  Mr.  Whitmore 
sympathetically.  He  had  a  pleasant  voice,  but 
somehow  I  did  not  want  to  catch  his  eye.  In- 
stead I  kept  my  gaze  fastened  upon  the  knees  of 
his  well-fitting  pantaloons,  and  they  gave  me  (I 
102 


POOR   TOM    BOWLING 

cannot  say  why)  a  notion  that  he  must  be  a 
sportsman  as  well  as  a  divine.  No  divine  could 
have  been  more  correctly  attired,  and  yet  there 
was  a  latent  horsiness  about  his  cut.  I  set  him 
down  for  a  sporting  parson  from  the  country 
and  wondered  why  he  wore  clothes  so  much  su- 
perior to  those  of  the  Plymouth  parsons  known 
to  me  by  sight. 

"Just  listen  to  that,  now!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Jope.  A  chorus  in  one  of  the  coaches  ahead  had 
struck  up  "Tom  Bowling,"  and  before  we 
reached  the  head  of  the  street,  from  coach  after 
coach  the  funeral  party  broke  into  song: 

"  Here,  a  sheer  hulk,  lies  poor  Tom  Bowling, 

The  darling  of  his  crew-ew  ; 
No  more  he'll  hear  the  te-empest  how- wow-ling 

For  death  has  broach'd  him  to. 
His  form  was  of  the-e  ma-hanliest  beau-eau-ty — " 

"I  wouldn't  say  that,  quite,"  observed  Mr. 
Jope  pensively.  "To  begin  with,  he'd  had  the 
small-pox." 

"De  gustibus  nil  nisi  lonum"  Mr.  Whitmore 
soothed  him. 

"What's  that  V9 

"Latin." 

103 


ADVENTURES    OF   HAEEY   REVEL 

"Wonderful!  Would  ye  mind  saying  it 
again  ?" 

The  words  were  obligingly  repeated. 

"Wonderful !  And  what  might  be  the  mean- 
ing of  it,  making  so  bold  ?" 

"It  means  ' Speak  well  of  the  dead.' ' 

"Well,  we're  doing  of  it,  anyway.  Hark  to 
'em,  ahead  there !" 

The  cortege,  in  fact,  was  attracting  general  at- 
tention. Folks  on  the  pavement  halted  to  watch 
and  grin  as  we  went  by;  one  or  two,  catching 
sight  of  familiar  faces  within  the  coaches, 
waved  their  handkerchiefs  or  shouted  back  salu- 
tations; and  as  we  crawled  out  of  Old  Town 
Street  and  past  St.  Andrew's  Church  a  small 
crowd  raised  three  cheers  for  us.  And  still 
above  it  the  chorus  blared  and  the  mourners' 
voices  rose  uproarious: 

"  His  friends  were  many  and  true-hearted, 

His  Poll  was  kind  and  fair  ; 
And  then  he'd  sing  so  blithe  and  jolly, 

Ah,  many's  the  time  and  oft  ! 
But  mirth  is  turned  to  melancholy — 

For  Tom  is  gone  aloft. " 

"Bill  couldn't  sing  a  note,"  Mr.  Jope  mur- 
mured ;  "but  as  you  say,  sir — would  you  oblige 
104 


POOK   TOM   BOWLING 

us  again  ?"  Again  the  Latin  was  repeated,  and 
he  swung  round  upon  me.  "Think  of  that, 
now !  Be  you  a  scholar,  hey  ? — read,  write,  and 
cipher  ?  How  would  you  spell  'sojer,'  for  in- 
stance ?" 

The  question  knocked  the  wind  out  of  me, 
and  I  felt  my  face  whitening  under  the  clergy- 
man's eyes. 

"Soldier— S-O-L-D-I-E-K,"  I  managed  to  an- 
swer, but  scarcely  above  a  whisper. 

"Very  good ;  now  make  a  rhyme  to  it." 
"I — please,  sir,  I  don't  know  any  rhymes." 
"Well,  that's  honest,  anyway.  Now,  I'll  tell 
you  why  I  asked."  He  turned  and  addressed 
Mr.  Whitmore.  "I'm  Cornish  born,  sir — from 
Saltash,  up  across  the  river.  Afore  I  went  to 
sea  there  was  a  maid  livin'  next  door  to  us  that 
wanted  to  marry  me.  She  didn't  say  it  in  so 
many  words,  you  understand,  but  she  showed 
herself  conformable.  Well,  when  she  found  I 
wasn't  to  be  had,  she  picked  up  with  a  fellow 
from  the  Victualling  Yard  and  married  he,  and 
came  down  to  Dock  to  live.  Man's  name  was 
Babbage,  and  they  hadn't  been  married  six 
months  afore  he  tumbled  into  a  brine-vat  and 
was  drowned.  'That's  one  narra  escape  to  me,' 
105 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

I  said.  Next  news  I  had  was  a  letter  telling  me 
she'd  a  boy  born,  and  please  would  I  stand  god- 
father ?  A  bit  too  close  sailing,  thought  I  to  my- 
self, but  I  didn't  like  to  say  no,  out  of  respect  to 
her  family.  So  I  wrote  home  from  Gibraltar 
that  I  was  agreeable,  only  it  must  be  done  by 
proxy  and  she  mustn't  make  it  no  precedent. 
That  must  be  ten  years  back ;  and  what  with  one 
thing  and  another  I  never  set  eyes  'pon  mother 
or  child  till  yesterday,  when — having  to  run 
down  to  Dock  to  order  Bill's  grave,  and  my 
thoughts  runnin'  on  the  life  o'  the  man,  and  how 
we're  here  one  moment  and  gone  the  next — I 
thought  'twould  be  neighbourly  to  drop  'em  a 
visit.  I  found  the  boy  growed  to  be  a  terrible 
plain  child,  about  the  size  of  this  youngster.  I 
didn't  like  the  boy  at  all.  So  I  says  to  his 
mother,  'I  s'pose  he's  clever?' — for,  dang  it! 
thinks  I,  he  must  be  clever  to  make  up  for  being 
so  plain-featured  as  all  that.  'Benjy' — she'd 
a-called  him  Benjamin  after  me — 'Benjy's  the 
cleverest  child  for  his  age  that  ever  you  see,'  she 
says.  'Come,  that's  something!'  says  I,  consol- 
ing like.  'Why,'  says  she,  'he'll  pitch  to  and 
make  up  a  rhyme  'pon  anything !'  'Can  he  so  ?' 
I  says,  pulling  a  great  crown-piece  out  of  my 
106 


POOE   TOM   BOWLING 

pocket  (not  that  I  liked  the  cut  of  his  jib,  but 
the  woman  had  been  hinting  about  my  being  his 
godfather)  :  'Now,  my  lad,  let's  see  if  you're 
so  gifted  as  your  mother  makes  out.'  'Aw, 
that's  easy,"  says  he: 

'  Five  shillin', 
Benjy's  willinV 

"  'Here,  hold  hard !'  I  says ;  'if  I'm  to  pay  the 
piper,  leave  me  call  the  tune.  Five  shillin'  it 
is ;  and  likewise  there's  a  sojer  now  passin'  the 
window.  Make  up  a  rhyme  'pon  he,  and  you 
shall  have  the  money.'  What  d'ye  think  that 
ghastly  boy  did?  'That's  easier  still,'  he 
says: 

'  Sojer,  sojer, 
Diddy,  Diddy,  dodger ! 

'Now  hand  me  over  the  money,'  he  says.  I 
could  have  slapped  his  ear." 

Almost  as  he  ended  his  simple  story  the  pro- 
cession came  to  a  halt;  the  strains  of  "Tom 
Bowling"  ceased  abruptly  and  changed  into 
noisy — and,  on  the  part  of  the  ladies,  very  un- 
ladylike— expostulations.  "Hullo!"  Mr.  Jope 
107 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

started  forward  and  leaned  out  of  the  win- 
dow. 

"I  think,"  said  the  Kev.  Mr.  Whitmore,  "we 
have  arrived  at  the  toll-gate." 

"D'ye  mean  to  say  the  sharks  want  to  take  toll 
on  Bill?" 

"Likely  enough." 

"On  him?  And  him  a-going  to  his  long 
home?  Here — hold  hard!"  Mr.  Jope  leapt 
out  into  the  roadway  and  disappeared,  slam- 
ming the  door  behind  him. 

Upon  us  two,  left  alone  in  the  coach,  there 
fell  a  dreadful  silence.  Mr.  Whitmore  leaned 
forward  and  touched  my  knee;  and,  horribly 
compelled  by  a  stronger  will,  I  met  his  eye. 

The  face  I  looked  into  was  thin  and  refined ; 
clean-shaven,  and  a  trifle  pale,  as  if  with  the 
habit  of  study.  A  slight  baldness  by  the  tem- 
ples gave  the  brow  unusual  height.  About  his 
whole  appearance  there  was  a  daintiness — I 
know  not  how  otherwise  to  describe  it — which 
expressed  itself  in  his  deliberate  way  of  choos- 
ing his  words,  as  well  as  in  his  clean  linen,  and 
hinted  itself  in  the  fine  lines  of  the  mouth,  now 
drawn  back  in  a  smile,  and  displaying  a  well- 
kept  cage  of  teeth.  His  eyes  I  did  not  like  at 
108 


POOK   TOM   BOWLING 

all ;  instead  of  soothing  the  terror  in  mine  they 
seemed  to  be  drinking  it  in,  and  tasting  it,  and 
calculating  the  while;  and  he  kept  them  half- 
closed,  as  a  man  might  while  sipping  wine  and 
rolling  it  on  his  tongue  before  he  comes  to  an 
opinion  on  it. 

"I  passed  by  the  Barbican  just  now,"  said  he, 
"and  heard  some  inquiries  about  a  small  chim- 
ney-sweep." 

He  paused,  as  if  waiting.  But  I  had  no 
speech  in  me. 

"It  was  a  strange  story  they  were  telling — a 
very  dreadful  and  strange  story;  still,  when  I 
came  upon  you  I  saw,  of  course,  it  was  an  in- 
credible one.  Boys  of  your  size '  He  hesi- 
tated and  left  the  sentence  unfinished.  "Still, 
you  may  have  seen  something — hey?" 

Again  I  could  not  answer. 

"At  any  rate,"  he  went  on,  "putting  two  and 
two  together,  I  gave  you  the  benefit  of  the  doubt 
— and  resolved  to  warn  you.  It  was  a  mistake 
to  run  away;  but  the  mischief's  done.  How 
were  you  proposing  to  make  off  ?" 

"I  hadn't  thought,  sir.  You — you  won't  give 
me  up?" 

"No,  for  I  think  you  must  be  innocent — of 
109 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

what  they  told  me,  at  least.  I  feel  so  certain  of 
it  that,  as  you  see,  my  conscience  allows  me  to 
warn  you.  In  the  first  place,  avoid  the  Torpoint 
Ferry.  It  will  be  watched,  as  sure's  a  gun ;  that 
is" — he  pulled  up  and  corrected  himself — "it 
will  without  doubt  be  watched.  I  should  make 
for  the  Docks,  hide  until  night,  and  try  to  stow 
myself  away  on  shipboard.  Secondly" — he  put 
out  a  hand  and  softly  unfastened  the  coach  door 
— "I  am  going  to  leave  you.  Our  friend,  Mr. 
Jope,  is  engaged,  I  see,  in  an  altercation  with 
the  toll-keeper.  Your  wisest  course  will  be  to 
enlist  his  sympathies;  he  seems  a  good-natured 
fellow.  The  driver  (it  may  help  you  to  know) 
is  drunk.  Of  course,  if  by  ill-luck  they  trace  me 
out,  to  question  me,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  tell 
what  I  know.  It  amounts  to  very  little ;  still,  I 
have  no  wish  to  tell  it.  One  word  more :  Get  a 
wash  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  by  some  means  ac- 
quire a  clean  suit  of  clothes.  I  may  then  be  un- 
able to  swear  to  you;  may  be  able  to  say  that 
your  face  is  as  unfamiliar  to  me  as  it  was — or 
as  mine  was  to  you — when  Mr.  Jope  introduced 
us.  Understand  ?" 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

He  picked  up  the  valise,  which  had  been  rest- 
110 


POOR   TOM   BOWLING 

ing  between  his  feet;  nodded  "good-day!"  and 
after  a  swift  glance  up  the  street  and  around  at 
the  driver,  to  make  sure  that  his  head  was 
turned,  stepped  briskly  out  upon  the  pavement, 
and  disappeared  around  the  hack  of  the  coach. 


Ill 


CHAPTER  IX 

SALTASH  FERRY 

APPARENTLY  the  hackney  coachman  was  accus- 
tomed to  difficulties  with  the  toll-gate,  for  he 
rested  on  the  box  in  profound  slumber,  recum- 
bent, with  his  chin  sunk  on  his  chest,  and  only 
woke  up — with  a  start  which  shook  the  vehicle 
— when  a  flat  hearse,  with  plumes  waving,  went 
rattling  by  us  and  back  towards  Plymouth. 

A  minute  later  Mr.  Jope  reappeared  at  the 
coach  door,  perspiring  copiously,  but  trium- 
phant. 

"Oh,  it's  been  heavinly!"  he  announced. 
"Why,  hullo !  Where's  his  Reverence  ?" 

"He  couldn't  wait,  sir.  He — he  preferred 
to  walk." 

"Eh?  I  didn't  see  en  pass  the  toll-bar. 
That's  a  pity,  too,  for  I  wanted  to  take  his  opin- 
ion. Oh,  my  son,  it's  been  heavinly !  First  of 
all,  I  tried  argyment  and  called  the  toll-man  a 
son  of  a  dog;  and  then  he  fetched  up  a  con- 
112 


SALTASH    FERRY 

stable,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  Nan — she's  in 
the  second  coach — knew  all  about  him;  least- 
ways, she  talked  as  if  she  did.  Well,  the  toll- 
man stuck  to  his  card  of  charges  and  said  he 
hadn't  made  the  law,  but  it  was  threepence  for 
everything  on  four  wheels.  Tour  wheels?'  I 
said.  'Don't  talk  so  weak !  Faithful  below  Bill 
done  his  duty,  and  he's  been  a  blessed  angel  any 
time  these  three  days.  We  brought  nothing  into 
the  world  and  we  can't  take  it  out;  but  you'd 
take  the  breeches  off  a  Highlander,'  I  says. 
'He's  on  four  wheels,'  says  the  fellow,  stub- 
born as  ever.  'So  was  Elijah,'  says  I;  'but 
if  your  so  mighty  particular,  we  try  ye  an- 
other way.'  I  paid  off  the  crew  of  the 
hearse,  gave  the  word  to  cast  loose,  and 
down  we  dumped  poor  Bill  slap  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  roadway.  'Now,'  says  I,  'we'll 
leave  talking  of  wheels.  What's  your  charge 
for  en  on  the  flat  ?'  'Eight  bearers  at  a  ha'penny 
makes  fourpence,'  he  says.  'No,  no,  my  son/  I 
says,  'there  ain't  a-going  to  be  no  bearers.  He's 
happy  enough  if  he  stops  here  all  night.  You 
may  charge  en  as  a  "covered  conveyance,"  as  I 
see  you've  a  right  to ;  but  the  card  says  nothing 
about  rate  of  drivin',  except  that  it  mustn't  be 
113 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

reckless ;  and,  you  may  lay  to  it,  Bill  won't  be 
that.'  At  first  the  constable  talked  big  about  ob- 
structing the  traffic,  but  Nan  was  telling  the 
crowd  such  terrible  things  about  his  past  that 
for  very  shame  he  grew  quiet,  and  the  pair 
agreed  that  by  lashing  Bill  a-top  of  the  first 
coach  we  might  pass  him  through  gratis  as  per- 
sonal luggage.  Why,  what's  the  boy  cryin'  for  ? 
It's  all  over  now,  and  a  principle's  a  principle." 

But  still,  as  the  squadron  got  under  way 
again  and  moved  on  amid  the  cheers  of  the  popu- 
lace, I  sat  speechless,  dry-eyed,  shaken  with 
dreadful  sobs. 

"Easy,  my  lad — don't  start  the  timbers.  In 
trouble — hey  ?" 

I  nodded. 

"I  thought  as  much  when  I  shipped  ye.  Sit 
up,  and  tell  me;  but  first  listen  to  this:  All 
trouble's  big  to  a  boy,  but  one  o'  your  age  don't 
often  do  what's  past  mendin'  if  he  takes  it  hon- 
est. That's  comfort,  hey  ?  Very  well ;  now  haul 
up  and  inspect  damages,  and  we'll  see  what's  to 
be  done." 

"It's  about  a  Jew,  sir,"  I  stammered  at 
length. 

He  nodded.  "Now  we're  making  headway." 
114 


SALTASH    FERRY 

"He — he  was  murdered.    I  saw  him " 

"Look  here,"  said  Mr.  Jope,  very  grave  but 
seemingly  not  astonished;  "hadn't  you  best  get 
under  the  seat  ?" 

"I— didn't  do  it,  sir.    Keally,  I  didn't !" 

"I'm  not  suggestin'  it,"  said  Mr.  Jope. 
"Still,  under  the  circumstances,  I'd  get  under 
the  seat." 

"If  you  wish  it,  sir." 

"I  wouldn't  go  so  far  as  to  say  that;  but  'tis 
my  advice."  And  under  the  seat  I  crawled  obe- 
diently. "Now,  then,"  said  he,  with  an  absurd 
air  of  one  addressing  vacancy,  "if  you  didn't  do 
it,  who  did?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir." 

"Then,  where's  your  difficulty  ?" 

"But  I  saw  a  man  staring  in  at  the  window — 
it  was  upstairs  in  a  room  close  to  the  roof ;  and 
afterwards  I  found  him  on  the  roof,  and  he  was 
all  of  a  tremble  and  in  two  minds,  so  he  said, 
about  pitching  me  over.  I  showed  him  the  way 
down.  If  you  please,  sir,"  I  broke  off,  "you're 
not  to  tell  anyone  about  this,  whatever  hap- 
pens !" 

"Eh?    Why  not?" 

"Because "  I  hesitated. 

115 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

"Friend  of  yours  ?" 

"Not  a  friend,  sir.  He's  a  young  man  in  the 
army,  and  his  aunt — she  used  to  be  very  kind  to 
me.  I  ran  away  at  first  because  I  was  afraid ; 
but  they  can't  do  anything  to  me,  can  they  ?  for 
I  haven't  done  anything.  I  didn't  find  the — the 
— Mr.  Rodriguez,  I  mean — until  he  was  dead. 
But  if  they  catch  me  I  shall  have  to  give  evi- 
dence, and  Mr.  Archie — though  I  don't  believe 
he  did  it " 

"Belay  there!"  commanded  Mr.  Jope. 
"Your  beginning  to  see  things  clearer,  though  I 
won't  say  'tis  altogether  easy  to  follow  ye  yet. 
Par  as  I  can  make  out,  you're  not  a  bad  boy. 
You  ran  away  because  you  were  scared.  Well, 
I  don't  blame  ye  for  that.  I  never  seen  a  dead 
Jew  myself,  though  I  often  wanted  to.  You 
won't  go  back  if  you  can  help  it,  ?cos  why  ?  'Cos 
you  don't  want  to  tell  on  a  man ;  'cos  his  aunt's 
a  friend  o'  yourn,  and  'cos  you  don't  believe  he's 
guilty.  What's  your  name  ?" 

"Harry,  sir— Harry  Revel." 

"Well,  then,  my  name's  Ben  Jope,  and  as 

such  you'll  call  me.    I'm  sorry,  in  a  way,  that  it 

rhymes  with  'rope,'  which  it  never  struck  me 

before  in  all  these  years,  and  wouldn't  now  but 

116 


SALTASH    FERRY 

for  thinkin'  'pon  that  ghastly  godson  o'  mine, 
and  how  much  better  I  stomach  ye.  I  promise 
nothing,  mind;  but  if  you'll  keep  quiet  under 
that  seat,  I'll  think  it  over." 

Certainly,  having  made  my  confession  I  felt 
easier  in  mind  as  I  lay  huddled  under  the  seat, 
though  it  seemed  to  me  that  Mr.  Jope  took  mat- 
ters lightly.  For  the  squadron  ahead  had  re- 
sumed the  singing  of  "Tom  Bowling,"  and  he 
sat  humming  a  bar  or  two  here  and  there  with 
evident  pleasure,  and  pausing  only  to  bow  out  of 
the  window  and  acknowledge  the  cheers  of  the 
passers-by. 

At  the  end  of  five  minutes,  however,  he  spoke 
aloud  again. 

"The  first  thing,"  he  announced,  "is  to  stay 
where  you  are.  Let  me  think,  now,  who  seen 
you?  There's  the  parson;  he's  gone.  And 
there's  the  jarvey;  he's  drunk  as  a  lord.  Any- 
one else  ?" 

"There  was  one  of  the  young  ladies  that 
looked  out  of  window." 

"True;  then  'tis  too  risky.  When  the  com- 
pany gets  out  you'll  have  to  get  out.  Let  the 
jarvey  see  you  do  it ;  the  rest  don't  matter.  You 
can  pretend  to  walk  with  us  a  little  way,  then 
117 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

slip  back  and  under  the  seat  again — takin'  care 
that  this  time  the  jarvey  don't  see  you.  That's 
easy  enough,  eh  ?" 

I  assured  him  I  could  manage  it. 

Then  leave  the  rest  to  me,  and  bide  still.  I 
got  to  think  of  Bill  now;  and  more,  by  token, 
here's  the  graveyard  gate !" 

He  thrust  the  door  open  and  motioned  me  to 
tumble  out  ahead  of  him.  As  the  rest  of  the  fu- 
neral guests  alighted  he  worked  me  very  skil- 
fully before  him  into  the  driver's  view,  having 
taken  care  to  set  the  coach  door  wide  on  the  off 
side. 

"It's  understood  that  you  wait,  all  o'  ye  ?" 
said  Mr.  Jope  to  the  driver. 

The  man  lifted  a  lazy  eye.  "Take  your 
time,"  he  said;  "don't  mind  me.  I  hope" — he 
stiffened  himself,  suddenly  relapsing,  mur- 
mured— "I  know  a  gentleman  when  I  sees  one." 

Mr.  Jope  turned  away,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment ignored  my  existence.  The  coffin  was  un- 
lashed  and  lowered  from  the  leading  coach ;  the 
clergyman  at  the  gate  began  to  recite  the  sacred 
office,  and  the  funeral  train,  reduced  to  decorum 
by  the  sound,  followed  him  as  he  turned  and 
trooped  along  the  path  toward  the  mortuary 
118 


SALTASH    FERRY 

chapel.  I  moved  with  the  crowd  to  its  porch, 
drew  aside  to  make  way  for  a  lady  in  rouge  and 
sprigged  muslin,  and  slipped  behind  the  chapel 
wall.  The  far  end  of  it  hid  me  from  view  of  the 
coachee,  and  from  it  a  pretty  direct  path  led  to 
a  gap  in  the  hedge  and  a  stile.  Reaching  and 
crossing  this,  I  found  myself  in  a  by-lane  lead- 
ing back  into  the  high-road.  There  were  no 
houses  with  windows  to  overlook  me.  I  saun- 
tered around  at  leisure,  took  the  line  of  coaches 
in  the  rear,  and  crawled  back  to  my  hiding- 
place — it  astonished  me  with  what  ease.  Every 
driver  sat  on  his  box,  and  every  driver  slum- 
bered. 

The  mystery  of  this  was  resolved  when — it 
seemed  an  hour  later,  but  actually,  I  dare  say, 
Bill's  obsequies  took  but  the  normal  twenty 
minutes  or  so — Mr.  Jope  shepherded  his  flock 
back  through  the  gates,  and,  red-eyed,  addressed 
them  while  he  distributed  largess  along  the  line 
of  jarveys. 

"I  thank  ye,  friends,"  said  he  in  a  muffled 
voice  which  at  first  I  attributed  to  emotion. 
"The  fare  home  is  paid  to  the  foot  of  George 
Street — I  arranged  that  with  the  job-master, 
and  this  here  little  gift  is  private,  between  me 
119 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

and  the  drivers,  to  drink  Bill's  health.  And 
now  I'll  shake  hands."  Here  followed  sounds 
of  coughing  and  choking,  and  he  resumed  in 
feeble,  gasping  sentences,  "Thank  ye,  my  dear ; 
I've  brought  up  the  two  guineas,  but  you've  a 
made  me  swallow  my  quid  o'  baccy.  Hows'ever, 
you  meant  it  for  the  best.  And  that's  what  I 
had  a  mind  to  say  to  ye  all" — his  voice  grew 
firmer — "you're  a  pleasant  lot,  and  we've  spent 
the  time  very  lively  and  sociable,  and  you  done 
this  here  last  service  to  Bill  in  a  way  that  brings 
tears  to  my  eyes.  Still,  if  you  won't  mind  my 
saying  it,  a  little  of  ye  lasts  a  long  time,  and 
I'm  going  home  to  live  clean.  So  here's  wishing 
all  well,  and  good-bye." 

Not  one  of  the  party  seemed  to  resent  this  dis- 
missal. The  women  laughed  hilariously  and 
called  him  a  darling.  There  was  a  smacking 
exchange  of  kisses;  and  the  coaches,  having 
been  packed  at  length,  started  for  home  to  the 
strains  of  the  cornet  and  amid  round  after 
round  of  cheers.  Mr.  Jope  sprang  in  beside  me 
and,  leaning  out  of  the  farther  window,  waved 
his  neckerchief  for  a  while,  then  pensively  re- 
adjusted it,  and  called  to  the  driver: 

"St.  Budeaux!" 

120 


SALTASH    FEEEY 

The  driver,  after  a  moment,  turned  heavily 
in  his  seat  and  answered,  "Nonsense!" 

"I  tell  ye,  I  want  to  drive  to  St.  Budeaux,  by 
Saltash  Ferry." 

"And  I  tell  you,  get  out!  St.  Budeaux! 
The  idea!" 

"Why,  what's  wrong  with  St.  Budeaux  ?" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  goin'  to  argue  with  you,"  said 
the  driver ;  "I'm  goin'  home." 

And  he  began  to  turn  his  horse's  head.  Mr. 
Jope  sprang  out  upon  the  roadway.  The  driver, 
with  sudden  and  unexpected  agility,  dropped 
off — on  the  other  side. 

"Look  here,  it's  grindin'  the  faces  of  the 
poor,"  he  pleaded,  breathing  hard. 

"It  will  be,"  assented  Mr.  Jope,  grimly. 

"I  been  up  all  night— at  a  ball." 

"If  it  comes  to  that,  so've  I — at  Sy- 
monds's." 

"Mine  was  at  Admiralty  House,"  said  the 
driver.  "I  wasn'  dancin'." 

"What  about  the  horse  ?" 

"The  horse?  the  ho Oh,  I  take  your 

meanin'!     The  horse  is  all  right;  he's  a  fresh 

one.    Poor  I  may  be,"  he  announced  inconsecu- 

tively,  "but  I  wouldn'  live  the  life  of  one  of 

121 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

them  there  women  of  fashion,  not  for  a  million 
of  money."  He  ruminated  for  a  moment. 
"Did  I  say  a  million  3" 

"You  did." 

"Well,  I  don't  wishaggerate.  I  don't,  if  you 
understand  me,  wish — to — exaggerate.  So  we'll 
put  it  at  half  a  million." 

"All  right — jump  up!" 

To  my  astonishment,  no  less  than  to  Mr. 
Jope's  (who  had  scarcely  time  to  skip  back  into 
the  coach),  the  man  scrambled  up  to  his  seat 
without  more  ado,  flicked  his  whip,  and  began 
to  urge  the  horse  forward.  At  the  end  of  five 
minutes  or  so,  however,  he  pulled  up  just  as 
abruptly. 

"Eh?"  Mr.  Jope  put  forth  his  head.  "Ah, 
I  see ! — public-house." 

He  alighted  and  entered ;  returned  with  a  pot 
of  porter  in  one  hand  and  a  glass  of  brandy  in 
the  other;  dexterously  tipped  half  the  brandy 
into  the  porter,  and  handed  up  the  mixture. 
The  driver  took  it  down  at  one  steady  draught. 

The  pot  and  glass  were  returned  and  we 

jogged  on  again.    We  were  now  well  beyond  the 

outskirts  of  Stoke  and  between  dusty  hedges, 

over  which  the  honeysuckle  trailed.    Butterflies 

122 


SALTASH    FEKRY 

poised  themselves  and  flickered  beside  us,  and 
the  sun,  as  it  climbed,  drew  up  from  the  land  the 
fragrance  of  freshly  mown  hay  and  mingled  it 
with  the  stuffy  odour  of  the  coach.  By-and-by 
we  halted  again,  by  another  roadside  inn,  and 
again  Mr.  Jope  fetched  forth  and  administered 
insidious  drink. 

"If  this  is  going  to  last,"  said  the  charioteer, 
dreamily,  "may  I  have  strength  to  see  the  end 
o't!" 

I  did  not  catch  this  prayer,  but  Mr.  Jope  re- 
ported it  to  me  as  he  resumed  his  seat,  with  an 
ill-timed  laugh.  The  fellow,  who  had  been 
gathering  up  his  reins,  lurched  round  suddenly 
and  gazed  through  the  glass  front. 

"You  was  sayin'  ?"  he  demanded. 

"Nothing,"  answered  Mr.  Jope,  hastily.  "I 
was  talking  to  myself,  that's  all." 

"The  point  is :  Am  I,  or  am  I  not,  an  objec'  of 
derision  ?" 

"If  you  don't  drive  on  this  moment  I'll  step 
around  and  punch  your  head." 

"Tha's  all  right.  Tha's  right  as  ninepence. 
It's  not  much  I  arsk- — only  to  have  things  clear." 
He  drove  on. 

We  halted  at  yet  another  public-house — I  re- 
123 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

member  its  name,  the  Half-a-Face — and  must 
have  journeyed  a  mile  beyond  it,  or  there- 
abouts, when  the  end  came.  We  had  locked 
wheels  in  the  clumsiest  fashion  with  a  hay-wag- 
gon; and  the  waggoner,  who  had  quartered  to 
give  us  room  and  to  spare,  was  pardonably 
wrath.  Mr.  Jope  descended,  pacified  him,  and 
stepped  around  to  the  back  of  the  coach,  the 
hinder  axle  of  which,  a  moment  later,  I  felt 
gently  lifted  beneath  me  and  slewed  clear  of  the 
obstruction. 

"My  word,  mister,  but  you've  a  tidy 
strength!"  exclaimed  the  waggoner. 

"Not  more  than  you,  my  son — if  so  much; 
'tain't  the  strength,  but  the  application.  That's 
Nelson's  touch.  Ever  heard  of  it  ?" 

"I've  heard  of  him,  I  should  hope !  Look'y 
here,  mister,  did  you  ever  know  him  ?  Honour 
bright,  now!" 

"Friends,  my  son — dear,  dear  friends !  And 
the  gentleman  'pon  the  box,  there,  drunk  some 
of  the  very  rum  he  was  brought  home  in.  He's 
never  recovered  it." 

"And  to  think  of  my  meeting  you !" 

"Ay,  'tis  a  small  world,"  agreed  Mr.  Jope, 
cheerfully — "like  a  cook's  galley,  small  and 
124 


SALTASH   FEBBY 

cosy,  and  no  time  to  chat  in  it.  Now,  then,  my 
slumbering  ogre !" 

The  driver,  who,  from  the  moment  of  the 
mishap,  had  remained  comatose,  shook  his  reins 
feebly,  and  we  jogged  forward.  But  this  was 
his  last  effort.  At  the  next  sharp  bend  in  the  road 
he  lurched  suddenly,  swayed  for  a  moment,  and 
toppled  to  earth  with  a  thud.  The  horse  came 
to  a  halt. 

Mr.  Jope  was  out  in  a  moment.  He  glanced 
up  and  down  the  road. 

"Tumble  out,  youngster !  There's  no  one  in 
sight." 

"Is_is  he  hurt  ?" 

"Blest  if  I  know !"  He  stooped  over  the  pros- 
trate body.  "Hurt  ?"  he  asked,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment reported :  "No,  I  reckon  not ;  talkin'  in  his 
sleep,  more  like — for  the  only  word  I  can  make 
out  is  ' Jezebel.'  That  don't  help  us  much,  do 
it  ?"  He  scanned  the  road  again.  "There's  only 
one  thing  to  do.  I  can't  drive  ye;  I  never 
steered  yet  with  the  tiller-lines  in  front — it 
al'ays  seemed  to  me  unchristian.  We  must  take 
to  the  fields.  I  used  to  know  these  parts  and  by 
the  bearings  we  can't  be  half-a-mile  above  the 

ferry.  Here,  through  that  gate  to  the  left " 

125 


ADVENTURES    OP   HARRY   REVEL 

We  left  the  man  lying,  and  his  horse  cropping 
the  hedge-row  a  few  paces  ahead ;  and  struck  off 
to  the  left,  down  across  a  field  of  young  corn  in- 
terspersed with  poppies.  The  broad  estuary  lay 
at  our  feet,  with  its  beaches  uncovered — for  the 
tide  was  low — and  across  its  crowded  shipping 
I  marked  and  recognised  (for  Mr.  Trapp  had 
often  described  them  to  me)  a  line  of  dismal 
prison-hulks,  now  disused,  moored  head  to  stern 
off  a  mudbank  on  the  farther  shore. 

"Plain  sailing,  my  lad,"  panted  Mr.  Jope,  as 
the  cornfield  threw  up  its  heat  in  our  faces; 
"See,  yonder' s  Saltash!"  He  pointed  up  the 
river  to  a  small  town  which  seemed  to  run  top- 
pling down  a  steep  hill  and  spread  itself  like  a 
landslip  at  the  base.  "I  got  a  sister  living  there, 
if  we  can  only  fetch  across — a  very  powerful 
woman ;  widowed,  and  sells  fish." 

We  took  an  oblique  line  down  the  hillside, 
and  descended,  some  two  or  three  hundred  yards 
below  the  ferry,  upon  a  foreshore,  firm  for  the 
most  part,  and  strewn  with  flat  stones,  but  melt- 
ing into  mud  by  the  water's  edge.  A  small  trad- 
ing ketch  lay  there,  careened  as  the  tide  had  left 
it,  but  at  no  great  angle,  thanks  to  its  flat-bot- 
tomed build.  A  line  of  tattered  flags,  with  no 
126 


SALTASH    FERRY 

wind  to  stir  them,  led  down  from  the  truck  of 
either  mast,  and  as  we  drew  near  I  called  Mr. 
Jope's  attention  to  an  immense  bunch  of  fox- 
gloves and  pink  valerian  on  her  bowsprit  end. 

"Looks  like  a  wedding,  don't  it  ?"  said  he,  and 
turning  up  his  clean  white  trousers  he  strolled 
down  to  the  water's  edge  for  a  closer  look. 
"Scandalous,"  he  added,  examining  her  timbers. 

"What's  scandalous?" 

He  pointed  with  his  finger.  "Rotten  as 
touch,"  and  he  pensively  drew  out  an  enormous 
clasp-knife.  "A  man  ought  to  be  fined  for  treat- 
ing human  life  so  careless.  See  here !" 

He  drove  the  knife  at  a  selected  spot,  and  the 
blade  sank  into  the  hilt. 

From  the  interior,  prompt  on  the  stroke, 
arose  a  faint  scream. 


127 


CHAPTEE  X 

I    GO    ON    A    HONEYMOON 

"SURE-LY,  I  know  that  voice,"  said  Mr.  Jope. 

He  drew  out  the  knife  reflectively.  It  re- 
lieved me  to  see  that  no  blood  dyed  the  blade. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Jope,  I  was  afraid  you'd  stabbed 
him!" 

"  'Tisn't  a  him,  'tis  a  her.  I  touched  some- 
body up,  and  that's  the  truth." 

"Ahoy  there !"  said  a  voice  immediately  over- 
head, and  we  looked  up.  A  round-faced  man 
was  gazing  down  on  us  from  the  tilted  bulwarks. 
"You  might  ha'  given  us  notice,"  he  grumbled. 

"I  knew  'twas  soft,  but  not  so  soft  as  all  that," 
Mr.  Jope  explained. 

"Got  such  a  thing  as  a  scrap  o'  chalk  about 
ye?" 

"No." 

The  round-faced  man  felt  in  his  pocket  and 
tossed  down  a  piece.  "Mark  a  bit  of  a  line 
around  the  place,  will  ye  ?  I'll  give  it  a  lick  of 
128 


I   GO    ON   A   HONEYMOON 

i*  * 

paint  afore  the  tide  rises.  It's  only  right  the 
owner  should  have  it  pointed  out  to  him." 

"Belong  to  these  parts  ?"  asked  Mr.  Jope  af- 
fably, having  drawn  the  required  circle.  "I 
don't  seem  to  remember  your  face." 

"No  ?"  The  man  seemed  to  think  this  out  at 
leisure.  "I  was  married  this  morning,"  he  said 
at  length,  with  an  air  of  explanation. 

"Wish  ye  joy !     Saltash  maid  ?" 

"Widow.     Name  of  Sarah  Treleaven." 

"Why,  that's  my  sister !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Jope. 

"Is  it  ?"  The  round-faced  man  took  the  news 
without  apparent  surprise  or  emotion.  "Well, 
I'm  married  to  her,  anyway." 

"Monstrous  fine  woman,"  Mr.  Jope  observed, 
cheerfully. 

"Ay,  she's  all  that.  It  seems  like  a  dream. 
You'd  best  step  on  board ;  the  ladder's  on  t'other 
side." 

As  we  passed  under  the  vessel's  stern  I  looked 
up  and  read  her  name — Glad  Tidings.  Port  of 
Fowey. 

"I've  a-broken  it  to  her,"  our  host  announced, 
meeting  us  at  the  top  of  the  ladder.  "She  says 
you're  to  come  down." 

Down  the  companion  we  followed  him  accord- 
129 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

ingly,  and  so  into  a  small  cabin,  occupied — or. 
let  me  rather  say,  filled — by  the  stoutest  woman 
it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  meet.  She  reclined — 
in  such  a  position  as  to  display  a  pair  of  colos- 
sal feet,  shoeless,  clothed  in  thick  worsted 
stockings — upon  a  locker  on  the  starboard  side ; 
and  no  one,  regarding  her,  could  wonder  that 
this  also  was  the  side  toward  which  the  vessel 
listed.  Her  broad,  recumbent  back  was  sup- 
ported by  a  pile  of  seaman's  bags,  almost  as 
plethoric  as  herself,  and  containing  (if  one 
might  judge  from  a  number  of  miscellaneous  ar- 
ticles protruding  from  their  distended  mouths) 
her  bridal  outfit.  Unprepared  as  she  was  for  a 
second  visitor  in  the  form  of  a  small  chimney- 
sweep, she  betrayed  no  astonishment;  but  after 
receiving  her  brother's  kiss  on  either  cheek  bent 
a  composed  gaze  on  me,  and  so  eyed  me  for  per- 
haps half  a  minute.  Her  features  were  not  un- 
comely. 

"O.  P.," — she  addressed  her  husband — "ask 
him,  who's  his  friend  ?" 

"Who's  your   friend?"   asked  the  husband, 
turning  to  Mr.  Jope. 

"Chimney-sweep,"  said  Mr.   Jope.     "Least- 
ways, so  apprenticed,  as  I  understand." 
130 


I    GO    ON    A    HONEYMOON 

The  pair  gazed  at  me  anew. 

"I  asked/'  said  the  woman  at  length,  "be- 
cause this  is  a  poor  place  for  chimbleys." 

"He's  in  trouble,"  Mr.  Jope  explained;  "in 
trouble — along  o'  killing  a  Jew." 

"Oh,  no,  Mr.  Jope !"  I  cried.    "I  didn't " 

"Couldn't,"  interrupted  his  sister,  shortly, 
and  fell  into  a  brown  study.  "Constables  after 
him  ?"  she  asked. 

Mr.  Jope  nodded. 

Her  next  utterance  seemed  to  me  irrelevant, 
to  say  the  least  of  it.  "Ben,  'tis  high  time  you 
followed  O.  P.'s  example." 

"Meaning?"  queried  Ben. 

"O,  Onesimus;  P.,  Pengelly.  Example, 
marriage.  There's  the  widow  Babbage,  down 
to  Dock;  she  always  had  a  hankering  for  you. 
You're  neglecting  your  privileges." 

"Ever  seen  that  boy  of  hers  ?"  asked  Ben,  in 
an  aggrieved  voice.  "No,  of  course  you  haven't, 
or  you  wouldn't  suggest  it.  And  why  marry  me 
up  to  a  widow  ?" 

"O.  P.,"  said  the  lady,  "tell  him  you  prefer 
it." 

"I  prefer  it,"  said  Mr.  Pengelly. 
131 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"Oh,"  explained  Ben,  "present  company  al- 
ways excepted,  o'  course.  I  wish  you  joy." 

"Thank  ye,"  the  lady  answered,  graciously. 
"You  shall  drink  the  same  by-and-by  in  a  dish 
o'  tea,  which  I  reckon  will  suit  ye  best  this 
morning,"  she  added,  eyeing  him.  "O.  P.,  put 
on  the  kettle." 

Ben  Jope  winced  and  attempted  to  turn  the 
subject.  "What's  your  cargo  this  v'yage?"  he 
asked,  cheerfully. 

"I  didn't  write,"  she  went  on,  ignoring  the 
question.  "O.  P.  took  me  so  sudden." 

"Oh,  Sarah !"  Mr.  Pengelly  expostulated. 

"You  did ;  you  know  you  did,  you  rogue !" 

Mr.  Pengelly  took  her  amorous  glance  and 
turned  to  us.  "It  seems  like  a  dream,"  he  said, 
and  went  out  with  the  kettle. 

The  lady  resumed  her  business-like  air.  "We 
sail  for  Looe  next  tide.  It's  queer  now,  you're 
turning  up  like  this." 

"Providential.  I  came  o'  purpose,  though,  to 
look  ye  up." 

"I  might  ha'  been  a  limpet." 

"Eh  ?" 

"By  the  way,  you  prised  at  me  with  that 
knife  o?  yours.    And  you  call  it  Providence." 
132 


I    GO    ON    A    HONEYMOON 

Ben  grinned.  "Providence  or  no,  you'll  get 
this  lad  out  o'  the  way,  Sarah  ?" 

"H'm?"  She  considered  me.  "I  can't  take 
him  home  to  Looe." 

"Why  not?" 

"Folks  would  talk,"  she  said,  modestly. 

"'O'd  rabbit  it!"  exclaimed  Ben.  "You 
were  saying  just  now  that  the  man  took  ye  sud- 
den!" 

"Well,  I'll  see  what  can  be  done ;  but  on  con- 
ditions." 

"Conditions?" 

"Ay,  we'll  talk  that  over  while  he's  cleanin' 
himself.  She  lifted  her  voice,  and  called,  "O. 
P.,  is  that  water  warm  ?" 

"Middlin',"  came  O.  P.'s  voice  from  a  small 
cuddy  outside. 

"Then  see  to  the  child,  and  wash  him. 
Put  him  inside  your  foul-weather  suit  for  the 
time,  and  then  take  his  clothes  out  on  the  beach 
and  burn  'em.  That  seam'll  be  the  better  for  a 
lick  of  pitch  afore  the  tide  rises,  and  you  can  use 
the  same  fire  for  the  caldron." 

So  she  dismissed  me ;  and  in  the  cuddy,  hav- 
ing washed  myself  clean  of  soot,  I  was  helped 
by  Mr.  Pengelly  into  a  pair  of  trousers  which 
133 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

reached  to  my  neck  and  a  seaman's  guernsey 
which  descended  to  my  knees.  My  stockings  I 
soaped,  scrubbed,  wrung  out,  and  laid  across  the 
companion  rail  to  dry;  but,  as  it  turned  out,  I 
was  never  to  use  them  or  my  shoes  again.  My 
sweep's  jumper,  waistcoat,  and  breeches  Mr. 
Pengelly  carried  off,  to  burn  them. 

All  this  while  Ben  Jope  and  his  sister  had 
been  talking  earnestly.  I  had  heard  at  intervals 
the  murmur  of  their  voices  through  the  parti- 
tion, but  no  distinct  words  save  once,  when  Mrs. 
Pengelly  called  out  to  her  husband  to  keep  an 
eye  along  the  beach  and  report  the  appearance 
of  constables.  Now  so  ludicrous  was  the  figure 
I  cut  in  my  borrowed  clothes  that  on  returning 
to  the  cabin  I  expected  to  be  welcomed  with 
laughter.  To  my  surprise,  then,  Ben  Jope  arose 
at  once  with  a  serious  face,  and  took  me  by  the 
hand. 

"Good-bye,  my  lad,"  he  said.  "She  makes  it 
a  condition." 

"You're  not  leaving  me,  Mr.  Jope  ?" 

"Worse'n  that.  I'm  a-going  to  marry  the 
Widow  Babbage." 

"Oh,  ma'am!"  I  appealed. 

"It'll  do  him  good,"  said  Mrs.  Pengelly. 
134 


I    GO    ON    A    HONEYMOON 

"I  honestly  think,  Sarah/7  poor  Ben  pro- 
tested, "that  just  now  you're  setting  too  much 
store  by  wedlock  altogether." 

"It's  my  conditions  with  you;  and  you  may 
take  it  or  leave  it,  Ben."  His  sister  was  ada- 
mant, and  he  turned  ruefully  to  go. 

"And  you're  doing  this  for  me,  Mr.  Jope!" 
I  caught  his  hand. 

"Don't  ee  mention  it.  D n  the  child!" 

He  crammed  his  tarpaulin  hat  on  his  head.  "I 
don't  mean  you,  my  lad,  but  t'other  one.  If  he 
makes  up  a  rhyme  'pon  me,  I'll — I'll " 

Speech  failed  him.  He  wrung  my  hand,  stag- 
gered up  the  companion,  and  was  gone. 

"It'll  be  the  making  of  him,"  said  Mrs.  Pen- 
gelly,  with  composure.  "I  don't  like  the  woman 
myself,  but  a  better  manager  you  wouldn't 
meet." 

She  remembered  presently  that  Ben  had  de- 
parted without  his  promised  dish  of  tea,  and  this 
seemed  to  suggest  to  her  that  the  time  had  ar- 
rived for  preparing  a  meal.  With  singular  dex- 
terity, and  almost  without  shifting  her  posture, 
she  slipped  one  of  the  seaman's  bags  from  some- 
where beneath  her  shoulders,  drew  it  upon  her 
lap,  and  produced  a  miscellaneous  feast — a 
135 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

cheek  of  pork,  a  loaf,  a  saffron  cake,  a  covered 
jar,  which,  being  opened,  diffused  the  fragrance 
of  marinated  pilchards,  a  bagful  of  periwinkles, 
a  bunch  of  enormous  radishes,  a  dish  of  cream 
wrapped  about  in  cabbage  leaves,  a  basket  of 
raspberries  similarly  wrapped — finally,  two  bot- 
tles of  stout. 

"To  my  mind,"  she  explained,  as  she  set  these 
forth  on  the  table  beside  her,  each  accurately  in 
its  place,  and  with  such  economy  of  exertion  that 
only  one  hand  and  wrist  seemed  to  be  moving, 
"for  my  part,  I  think  a  widow-woman  should 
be  married  quiet.  I  don't  know  what  your  opin- 
ion may  be?" 

I  thought  it  wise  to  say  that  her  opinion  was 
also  mine. 

"It  took  place  at  eight  o'clock  this  morning." 
She  disengaged  a  pin  from  the  front  of  her 
bodice,  extracted  a  periwinkle  from  its  shell, 
ate  it,  sighed,  and  said,  "It  seems  years  already. 
I  gathered  these  myself,  so  you  may  trust  'em." 
She  disengaged  another  pin  and  handed  it  to 
me.  "We  meant  to  be  alone,  but  there's  plenty 
for  three.  Now,  you're  here,  you'll  have  to  give 
a  toast,  or  a  sentiment,"  she  added.  She  made 
this  demand  in  form  when  O.  P.  appeared, 
136 


I    GO    ON    A    HONEYMOON 

smelling  strongly  of  pitch,  and  taking  his  seat 
on  the  locker  opposite,  helped  himself  to  mari- 
nated pilchards. 

"But  I  don't  know  any  sentiments,  ma'am." 

"Nonsense.  Didn't  they  learn  you  any 
poetry  at  school  ?" 

Most  happily  I  bethought  me  of  Miss  Plin- 
limmon's  verses  in  my  Testament— now,  alas! 
left  in  the  Trapp's  cottage,  and  lost  to  me — and 
recited  them  as  bravely  as  I  could. 

"Ah !"  sighed  Mrs.  Pengelly,  "there's  many  a 
true  word  spoken  in  jest.  Where  shall  we  be 
in  ten  years'  time  ?  Where,  indeed  ?" 

"Here,"  her  husband  cheerfully  suggested, 
with  his  mouth  full. 

"Hush,  O.  P.     You  never  buried  a  first." 

She  demanded  more,  and  I  gave  her  Wolfe's 
last  words  before  Quebec  (signed  by  him  in  Miss 
Plinlimmon's  album)  : 

* '  '  They  run ! ' — '  but  who  ?   The  Frenchmen  I '    Such 
Was  the  report  conveyed  to  the  dying  hero. 
Thank  Heaven  1 '  he  cried,  '  I  thought  as  much. ' 
In  Canada  the  glass  is  often  below  zero. ' ' 

On  hearing  the  author's  name  and  my  de- 
scription of  Miss  Plinlimmon,  she  fell  into  deep 
thought. 

137 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

"I  suppose  now,  she'd  look  higher  than  Ben  ?" 

I  told  her  that,  so  far  as  I  knew,  Miss  Plin- 
limmon  had  no  desire  to  marry. 

"She'd  look  higher,  you  may  take  my  word 
for  it."  But  a  furrow  lingered  for  some  time  on 
Mrs.  Pengelly's  hrow,  and  (I  think)  a  doubt  in 
her  mind  that  she  had  been  too  precipitate. 

The  meal  over,  she  composed  herself  to  slum- 
ber, and  Mr.  Pengelly  and  I  spent  the  after- 
noon together  on  deck,  where  he  smoked  many 
pipes,  while  I  scanned  the  shore  for  signs  of  pur- 
suit. But  no,  the  tide  rose  and  still  the  fore- 
shore remained  deserted.  Above  us  the  ferry 
plied  lazily,  and  at  whiles  I  could  hear  the  voices 
of  the  passengers.  Nothing,  even  to  my  strained 
ears,  spoke  of  excitement,  and  yet,  in  the  great 
town  beyond  the  hill,  murder  had  been  done  and 
men  were  searching  for  me.  So  the  day  dragged 

by- 

Toward  evening,  as  the  vessel  beneath  us 
fleeted,  and  the  deck  recovered  its  level,  Mr.  Pen- 
gelly began  to  uncover  the  mainsail.  I  asked 
him  if  he  expected  any  crew  aboard ;  for,  surely, 
thought  I,  he  could  not  work  this  ketch  of  forty 
tons  or  so  single-handed. 

He  shook  his  head.  "There  was  a  boy,  but  I 
133 


I   GO    ON   A   HONEYMOON 

paid  him  off.  Sarah  takes  the  helm  from  this 
night  forth.  You  wouldn't  believe  it,  but  she 
can  swig  upon  a  rope,  too ;  and  as  for  pulling  an 

oar "     He  went  on  to  tell  me  that  she  had 

been  rowing  a  pair  of  paddles  when  his  eye  first 
lit  on  her ;  and  I  gathered  that  the  courtship  had 
been  conducted  on  these  waters  under  the  gaze  of 
Saltash,  the  male  in  one  boat  pursuing,  the  fe- 
male eluding  him  for  long  in  another,  but  at 
length  gracefully  surrendering. 

My  handiness  with  the  ropes,  when  I  volun- 
teered to  help  in  hoisting  sail,  surprised  and 
even  perplexed  him.  "But  I  thought  you  was  a 
chimney-sweeper?"  he  insisted.  I  told  him 
then  of  my  voyages  with  Mr.  Trapp,  yet  without 
completely  reassuring  him.  Hitherto  he  had 
taken  me  on  my  own  warrant,  and  Ben's,  with- 
out a  trace  of  suspicion ;  but  henceforth  I  caught 
him  eyeing  me  furtively  from  time  to  time,  and 
overheard  him  muttering  as  he  went  about  his 
preparations. 

As  he  had  promised,  when  the  time  came  for 
hauling  up  our  small  anchor,  Mrs.  Pengelly 
emerged  from  the  companion  hatch  like  a  genie 
from  a  bottle.  She  bore  two  large  hunches  of 
saffron  cake  and  handed  one  to  each  of  us  before 
moving  aft  to  uncover  the  wheel. 
139 


CHAPTER  XI 

FLIGHT 

THE  sails  drew  as  we  got  the  anchor  on  board, 
and  by  the  time  O.  P.  and  I  had  done  sluicing 
the  hawser  clean  of  the  mud  it  brought  with  it, 
we  were  working  down  the  Hamoaze  with  a  light 
and  baffling  wind,  but  carrying  a  strong  tide 
under  us.  Evening  fell  with  a  warm  yellow 
haze ;  the  banks  slipping  past  us  grew  dim  and 
dimmer ;  here  and  there  a  light  shone  among  the 
'longshore  houses.  I  grew  more  confident,  and 
no  longer  concealed  myself  as  we  tacked  under 
the  sterns  of  the  great  ships  at  anchor,  or  put 
about  when  close  alongside. 

As  we  cleared  Devil's  Point  and  had  our  first 
glimpse  of  the  grey  line  where  night  was  fast 
closing  down  on  open  sea,  I  noted  a  certain  re- 
laxation in  Mr.  Pengelly,  as  if  he,  too,  had  been 
feeling  the  strain.  He  began  to  chat  with  me. 
The  wind,  he  said,  was  backing,  and  we  might 
look  for  this  spell  of  weather  to  break  up  before 
long.  Once  paet  the  Rams  we  should  be  right  as 
UO 


FLIGHT 

ninepence  and  might  run  down  the  coast  on  a 
soldier's  wind ;  it  would  stiffen  a  bit  out  yonder 
unless  he  was  mistaken.  He  pulled  out  his  pipe 
and  lit  it.  Aft  loomed  the  bulk  of  Mrs.  Pengelly 
at  the  wheel.  Save  for  a  call  now  and  again  to 
warn  us  that  the  helm  was  down,  to  put  about, 
she  steered  in  silence.  And  she  steered  ad- 
mirably. 

We  had  opened  the  lights  of  Cawsand  and 
were  heading  in  towards  it  on  the  port  tack 
when,  as  O.  P.  smoked  and  chatted,  and  I 
watched  the  spark  of  the  Eddystone  growing 
and  dying,  her  voice  reached  us,  low  but  dis- 
tinct. 

"There's  a  boat  coming.    Get  below,  boy !" 

Sure  enough,  as  I  scrambled  for  the  hatchway 
in  a  flutter,  someone  hailed  us  out  of  the  dark- 
ness. 

"Ahoy,  there !" 

"Ahoy !"  O.  P.  called  back,  after  a  moment, 
into  the  darkness. 

"What's  your  name  ?" 

"The  Glad  Tidings,  o'  Looe,  and  thither 
bound.  Who  be  you  ?" 

"Water-guard.  Is  that  you  speaking,  Mr. 
Pengelly?" 

141 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

"Ay,  sure.     Anything  the  matter  ?" 

"Seen  such  a  thing  as  a  young  chimney-sweep 
on  your  way  down — age,  ten  or  thereabouts — 
there's  one  missing?" 

"You  don't  say  so !     Drowned  ?" 

His  wife  having  put  about,  Mr.  Pengelly 
obligingly  hauled  a  sheet  or  two  to  windward, 
and  brought  the  Glad  Tidings  almost  to  a 
standstill,  allowing  the  boat  to  come  close 
alongside. 

"Drowned  ?"  he  asked  again. 

"Worse  than  that,"  said  the  officer's  voice 
(and  it  sounded  dreadfully  close)  ;  "there's  been 
murder  committed,  and  the  child  was  in  the 
house  at  the  time.  The  belief  is,  he's  been  made 
away  with." 

"Save  us  all !    Murder  ?    Where  to  ?" 

"On  the  Barbican — an  old  Jew  there,  called 
Eodriguez.  Who's  that  you've  got  at  the 
helm?" 

"Missus." 

"Never  knew  ye  was  married." 

"Nor  did  I  till  this  mornin'." 

"Eh?  Wish  ye  luck,  I'm  sure;  and  you, 
ma'am,  likewise." 

"Thank  ye,  Mr.  Tucker,"  answered  the  lady. 
142 


FLIGHT 

"The  same  to  you,  and  many  of  'em — which  by 
that  I  don't  mean  wives." 

"Good  Lord,  is  that  you,  Sally?  Well,  I'm 
jiggered !  And  I  owe  you  ninepence  for  that 
last  pair  of  flatfish  you  sold  me !" 

"Tenpence,"  said  Mrs.  Pengelly.  "But  I  can 
trust  a  gentleman.  Where  d'ye  say  this  here 
murder  was  committed  ?" 

"Barbican." 

"I  don't  wonder  at  anything  happening  there. 
They're  a  stinking  lot.  Why  don't  ye  s'arch  the 
shipping  there  and  in  Catte water  ?" 

"We've  been  s'arching  all  day.  And  now  the 
constables  are  off  toward  Stoke — it  seems  a  child 
answering  all  particulars  was  seen  in  that  direc- 
tions this  morning.  Well,  I  won't  detain  ye. 
Good-night,  friends !" 

"Good-night!" 

I  heard  the  creak  of  thole-pins  as  the  boat  gave 
way,  and  the  wash  of  oars  as  it  shot  off  into  the 
dark.  Mr.  Pengelly  sent  me  a  low  whistle  and  I 
crept  forth. 

"Hear  what  they  said  ?"  he  asked. 

"They — they  didn't  give  much  trouble." 

"Depends  what  you  call  trouble."  He  seemed 
slightly  hurt  in  his  feelings,  and  added  with  as- 
143 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

perity  and  obvious  truth :  "Carry  it  off  how  you 
will,  a  honeymoon's  a  honeymoon,  and  a  man 
don't  expect  to  be  interrupted  with  questions 
about  a  sweep's  apprentice." 

"Stand  by!"  cautioned  the  voice  aft,  low 
and  firm  as  before.  "By  the  sound  of  it  they've 
stopped  rowing." 

"If  they  come  on  us  again  we're  done  for. 
That  Tucker's  a  fool,  but  I  noticed  one  or  two 
of  the  men  muttering  together." 

"Sounds  as  if  they  were  putting  about.  Can 
the  boy  swim  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Pengelly  anxiously. 

"I'll  bet  he  can't." 

"But  I  can,"  said  I.  "If  you'll  put  the  helm 
down,  ma'am,  and  hold  in,  I  think  she'll  almost 
fetch  Paulee  Point.  I  don't  want  to  get  you 
into  trouble." 

We  all  listened.  And  sure  enough  the  sound 
of  oars  was  approaching  again  out  of  the  dark- 
ness. 

"Mr.  Pengelly  can  lower  me  overside,"  I 
urged,  "as  soon  as  we're  near  shore.  It's  safest 
in  every  way." 

"So  best,"  she  answered  shortly,  and  again 
put  the  Glad  Tidings  about.  I  began  to  pluck 
off  my  clothes. 

144 


FLIGHT 

The  boat  was  evidently  watching  us:  for, 
dark  as  the  evening  had  grown,  almost  as  soon 
as  our  helm  went  down,  the  sound  of  oars  ceased 
astern,  to  begin  again  a  few  seconds  later,  but 
more  gently,  as  if  someone  had  given  the  order 
for  silence.  O.  P.  peered  under  the  slack  of  the 
mainsail. 

"There  she  is !"  he  muttered.  "Tucker  will 
be  trying  to  force  her  alongside  under  our  lee." 

He  picked  up  and  uncoiled  a  spare  rope. 
"You'd  best  take  hold  o'  this  and  let  me  slip  ye 
over  the  starboard  side  forra'd  there,  as  she  goes 
about.  Bain't  afeard,  hey  ?" 

"I'm  not  afraid  of  anything  but  being  caught, 
sir." 

"Sarah  will  take  her  in  close;  there's  plenty 
water." 

"O.  P.,"  said  the  voice  aft. 

"My  angel." 

"Tell  en  he's  a  good  boy,  and  I  wouldn'  mind 
having  one  like  him." 

"You're  a  good  boy,"  said  O.  P.,  and  covered 
the  remainder  of  the  message  with  a  discreet 
cough.  "Seems  to  me  Tucker's  holdin'  off  a 
bit,"  he  added,  peering  again  under  the  sail. 
"Wonder  what  his  game  is  ?" 
145 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

But  I  was  already  stripped,  and  already  the 
high  land  loomed  over  us.  Down  went  the  helm 
again.  "Now's  your  time,"  muttered  O.  P.,  as 
we  scrambled  forward  to  cast  off  sheets.  Amid 
the  flapping  of  her  head  sails  as  she  hung  for  a 
moment  or  two  in  stays,  I  slipped  overside  and 
took  the  water  easily,  as  the  black  mass  of  her 
stern  swung  slowly  round  and  covered  me  from 
view  of  the  boat.  Then,  as  the  tall  side  began 
to  gather  way  and  slip  by  me  I  cast  a  glance 
towards  land  and  dived. 

I  came  to  the  surface  warily  and  trod  water 
whilst  I  spied  for  the  boat,  which — as  I  reck- 
oned— must  be  more  than  a  gunshot  distant. 
The  sound  of  oars  guided  me,  and  I  dived  again 
in  a  terror.  For  she  had  not  turned  about  to 
follow  the  ketch,  but  was  heading  almost  di- 
rectly towards  me,  as  if  to  cut  me  off  from  the 
shore. 

My  small  body  was  almost  bursting  when  I 
rose  for  air  and  another  look.  The  boat  had  not 
altered  her  course,  and  I  gasped  with  a  new 
hope.  What  if,  after  all,  she  were  not  pursuing 
me  ?  I  let  my  legs  sink  and  floated  upright  with 
my  chin  above  water.  'No ;  I  had  not  been  spied, 
at  any  rate.  She  was  pointing  straight  for  the 
146 


FLIGHT 

shore.  But  what  should  take  a  long  boat, 
manned  (as  I  made  out)  by  a  dark  crowd  of 
rowers  and  passengers,  at  this  hour  to  this  de- 
serted spot  ?  Why  was  she  not  putting  in  for 
Cawsand,  around  the  point  ?  And  did  she  carry 
the  water-guard  ?  Was  this  Tucker's  boat,  after 
all,  or  another? 

Still  floating,  I  heard  her  nose  take  the 
ground,  and  presently  the  feet  of  men  shuffling, 
as  they  disembarked,  over  loose  stones;  then  a 
low  curse  following  on  a  slip  and  a  splash. 
"Who's  that  talking  ?"  a  voice  inquired,  low  and 
angry.  "Sergeant !  Take  that  man's  name." 
Some  muttering  followed,  and  then  the  footfalls 
grew  more  regular  and  seemed  to  be  mounting 
the  cliff,  along  the  base  of  which,  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  shore,  the  tide  was  now  sweep- 
ing me.  I  gave  myself  to  it,  and  noiselessly, 
little  by  little,  working  towards  land,  was  borne 
out  of  hearing. 

Another  ten  minutes  and  my  feet  touched  bot- 
tom. I  pulled  myself  out  upon  a  weed-covered 
rock,  and  along  it  to  a  slate-strewn  foreshore, 
overhung  by  a  low  cliff  of  shale,  grey,  and  glim- 
mering in  the  darkness.  But  even  in  the  dark- 
ness a  ridge  of  harder  rock  showed  me  a  likely 
147 


ADVENTURES    OF   HAERY   REVEL 

way.  I  remembered  that  the  cliff  hereabouts 
was  of  no  great  height  and  scalable  in  a  score 
of  places.  Very  cautiously,  and  sometimes  sit- 
ting and  straddling  the  ridge  while  my  fingers 
found  a  new  grip,  I  mounted  to  the  edge  of  a 
heathery  down,  and  there,  after  pricking  myself 
sorely,  among  the  furze  bushes  that  guarded  it, 
found  a  passage  through  and  cast  myself  at  full 
length  on  the  short  turf. 

For  awhile  I  lay  and  panted,  flat  on  my  back, 
staring  up  at  the  stars;  for  the  wind  had 
chopped  about  and  was  now  drawing  gently  off 
shore,  clearing  the  sky.  But,  though  gentle,  it 
had  an  edge  of  chill  which  by-and-by  brought 
me  to  my  feet  again.  Far  out  on  the  dark  waters 
of  the  Sound  glimmered  the  starboard  light  of 
the  Glad  Tidings,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  she 
was  heading  in  for  shore.  Had  the  Pengellys, 
too,  discovered  that  the  boat  was  not  the  water- 
guard's  ?  And  was  O.  P.  working  the  ketch  back 
to  give  me  a  chance  of  rejoining  her !  Else  why 
was  she  not  slackening  sheets  and  running? 
Vain  hope!  I  suppose  that  the  new  slant  of 
wind  took  some  time  in  reaching  her.  At  any 
rate,  just  as  I  was  preparing  to  creep  back  be- 
tween the  furze-whins  and  scramble  down  to  the 
148 


FLIGHT 

foreshore  again,  the  green  light  was  quenched. 
She  had  altered  her  helm  and  was  clearing  the 
Sound. 

I  dared  not  hail  her.  Indeed,  had  I  risked  it, 
the  odds  were  against  my  voice  carrying  so  far, 
to  be  recognised.  And  while  I  stood  and 
searched  the  darkness  into  which  she  had  disap- 
peared, my  ear  caught  again  the  muffled  tramp 
of  the  soldiers,  this  time  advancing  towards  me. 
I  waited  no  longer,  but  started  running  for  dear 
life  up  the  swelling  shoulder  of  the  down. 

The  swim  and  the  chill  breeze  had  numbed  my 
legs  and  arms.  After  a  few  hundred  yards, 
however,  I  felt  life  coming  back  to  them,  and  I 
ran  like  a  hare.  I  was  stark  naked,  and  here 
and  there  my  feet  struck  a  heather  root  poised 
above  the  turf,  or  wounded  themselves  on  low- 
lying  sprouts  of  furze,  but  as  my  eyes  grew  used 
to  the  dark  sward  I  learned  to  avoid  these.  So 
close  the  night  hung  around  me  that  even  on  the 
sky  line  I  had  no  fear  of  being  spied.  I  crossed 
the  ridge  and  tore  down  the  farther  slope ;  stum- 
bled through  a  muddy  brook,  and  mounted  an- 
other hillside.  My  heart  was  drumming  now, 
but  terror  held  me  to  it — over  this  second  ridge 
and  down  hill  again. 

149 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

I  supposed  myself  but  half-way  down  this 
slope,  or  only  a  little  more,  when  in  springing 
aside  to  avoid  a  low  bush  I  missed  footing  al- 
together, went  hurling  down  into  night,  dropped 
plumb  upon  another  furze-bush — a  withered  one 
— and  heard  and  felt  it  snap  under  me,  struck 
the  cliff-side,  bruising  my  hip,  and  slid  down  on 
loose  stones  for  another  few  yards.  As  I 
checked  myself  sprawling,  and  came  to  a  stand- 
still, some  of  these  stones  rolled  on  and  splashed 
into  water  far  below. 

For  a  minute  or  so,  at  full  length  on  this 
treacherous  bed,  I  could  pluck  up  no  heart  to 
move.  Then,  inch  by  inch  at  first,  I  drew  my- 
self up  to  the  broken  bush  and  found  beside  it 
a  flat  ledge,  smooth,  and  grassy,  which  led  in- 
land and  downwards.  I  think  it  must  have  been 
a  sheep-track.  At  any  rate,  I  crept  to  it  on 
hands  and  knees,  and  it  brought  me  down  to  the 
head  of  a  small  cove  where  a  faint  line  of 
brimming  showed  the  sea's  edge  rippling  on  a 
beach  of  flat  grey  stones. 

My  hip  was  hurting  me,  and  I  could  run  no 

farther.    I  groped  along  the  base  of  the  eastern 

cliff,  and  crawled  into  a  shallow  cave  close  by  a 

pile  of  sea-weed  which  showed  the  high  mark  of 

150 


FLIGHT 

the  tide  now  receding.  With  daylight  I  might 
discover  a  better  hiding-place.  Meanwhile,  I 
snuggled  down  and  drew  a  coverlet  of  sea-weed 
over  me  for  warmth. 


151 


CHAPTEE    XII 

I   FALL    AMONG    SMUGGLERS 

I  AWOKE  to  a  most  curious  sensation.  The 
night  was  still  black  and  only  the  ridge  of  the 
cliff  opposite  showed,  by  the  light  of  the  many 
stars,  its  dull  outline  above;  yet  I  felt  that  the 
whole  beach  had  suddenly  become  crowded  with 
people — that  they  were  moving  stealthily  about 
me,  whispering,  picking  their  way  among  the 
loose  stones,  hunting  me,  and  yet  hushing  their 
voices  as  though  themselves  afraid. 

At  first,  you  may  be  sure — awakened  as  I 
was  from  sleep — I  had  no  doubt  but  that  this 
unseen  band  of  folk  was  after  me.  All  that  fol- 
lowed my  awakening  passed  so  quickly  that  I 
cannot  separate  dreams  now  from  guesses,  nor 
apprehensions  from  realities.  I  do  remember, 
however,  that,  whereas  the  soldiers  from  whom 
I  had  run  had  been  on  foot,  my  first  fears  were 
of  a  pursuit  by  cavalrymen,  and  therefore  it 
seemed  likely  that  some  sound  of  horses'  tram- 
152 


I    FALL    AMONG    SMUGGLEKS 

pling  must  have  set  them  in  train;  but  now, 
though  I  strained  my  ears,  they  detected  nothing 
of  the  sort — only  a  subdued  murmur,  as  of  hu- 
man voices,  down  by  the  water's  edge,  and  now 
and  again  the  cautious  crunch  of  a  footstep 
upon  shingle.  Even  this  I  had  not  heard  but 
for  the  extreme  quiet  of  the  sea  under  the  off- 
shore wind. 

Gradually,  by  the  light  of  the  stars,  I  sep- 
arated from  the  surrounding  shadows  that  of  a 
whole  mass  of  people  inset  and  darkly  crowded 
there ;  and  then — almost  as  I  guessed  their  busi- 
ness— the  cliff  above  me  shot  up  a  flame,  and 
their  forms  and  their  dismayed,  upturned  faces 
stood  out  distinct  in  the  glare  of  it. 

"Loose  the  horses  and  clear !"  yelled  someone, 
and  another  voice,  deep  and  wrathful,  began  to 
curse,  but  was  drowned  by  a  stampede  of  hoofs 
upon  the  shingle.  Straight  forth  from  the  sea — 
or  so  it  looked  to  me — some  twenty  or  thirty 
naked  horses,  without  rider,  bit,  or  bridle,  broke 
from  the  crowd  and  came  plunging  up  the  beach 
at  a  gallop.  They  were  met  by  a  roar  from  the 
cove-head,  and  with  that  a  line  of  glittering  hel- 
mets and  cuirasses  sprang  out  of  the  night  and 

charged  past  me. 

153 


ADVENTUKES    OF   HAEKY   EEVEL 

"Dragoons !     Dragoons !" 

As  the  yell  reached  me  from  the  waterside 
and  the  men  there  scattered  and  ran,  I  saw  the 
shock  of  the  double  charge,  the  flame  overhead 
lighting  up  every  detail  of  it.  The  riderless 
horses,  though  they  broke  and  swerved,  neither 
turned  tail  nor  checked  their  pace,  but  came 
through  the  dragoons  as  water  through  a  gate, 
the  men  either  vainly  hacking  at  them  with  their 
sabres,  or  as  vainly  leaning  from  their  saddles 
and  attempting  to  grip  the  brutes.  Grip  there 
was  none  to  be  had.  These  were  smugglers' 
horses,  clipped  to  the  skin,  with  houghed  manes 
and  tails,  and  bodies  sleek  with  soft  soap.  Nor 
did  the  dragoons  waste  more  trouble  upon  them, 
but  charged  forward,  and  down  upon  the  crowd 
at  the  water's  edge. 

And  as  they  charged  I  saw — but  could  not  be- 
lieve— that  on  a  sudden  the  crowd  had  vanished. 
A  moment  before  they  had  been  jostling,  shout- 
ing, cursing.  They  were  gone  now  like  ghosts. 
The  light  still  flared  overhead.  It  showed  no 
boat  beyond  the  cove,  only  the  troopers  reaching 
right  across  it  in  an  irregular  line,  as  each  man 
had  been  able  to  check  his  horse,  the  most  of 
them  on  the  verge  of  the  shingle,  but  many 
154 


I    FALL    AMONG    SMUGGLEES 

floundering  girth-deep,  and  one  or  two  even 
swimming.  The  riding  officer,  who  had  fol- 
lowed them,  was  bawling  and  pointing  with 
his  whip  towards  the  cliff — at  what,  I  could 
not  tell. 

I  had  no  time  to  wonder,  for  an  unholy  din 
broke  out,  on  the  same  instant,  at  the  head  of  the 
beach.  A  couple  of  the  smugglers'  horses  had 
been  hurled  over  by  the  dragoons'  impact,  and 
lay,  hurt  beyond  recovery,  lashing  out  across  the 
shingle  with  their  heels.  A  third  had  gone  down 
under  a  sabre  cut,  but  had  staggered  up  and  was 
lobbing  after  his  comrades  at  a  painful  canter. 
They  had  traversed  the  heavy  shingle,  reached 
the  harder  stones  at  the  cove's  head,  and  were 
sailing  away  at  stretched  gallop  when  a  volley 
rang  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  cliff  there,  and 
the  scream  of  more  than  one  mingled  with  fresh 
shouting.  At  that  moment,  and  just  before  the 
flame  above  me  sank  and  died  almost  as  swiftly 
as  it  had  first  shot  up,  a  soldier — not  a  dragoon, 
but  a  man  in  red  coat  and  white  breeches — ran 
forward,  and  sprang  at  the  girth  of  the  wounded 
horse,  which  had  stumbled  again.  He  did  the 
wise  thing — for  a  single  girth  was  this  horse's 
only  harness ;  but  whether  he  caught  it  or  not  I 
155 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

could  not  tell.  Ten  or  a  dozen  soldiers  followed 
to  help  him.  And  the  next  instant  total  dark- 
ness shut  down  on  the  whole  scene. 

It  did  not  last  long.  The  red-coats,  it  turned 
out,  had  brought  lanterns,  and  now,  at  a  shouted 
order  from  their  commanding  officer,  answer- 
ing the  call  of  the  dragoon  officer  below,  began 
to  light  them.  They  meant,  I  doubted  not,  to 
make  a  strict  search  of  the  cove;  and,  if  they 
did — my  cave  being  but  a  shallow  one — there 
was  no  hope  for  me.  But  just  then  a  dis- 
mounted trooper  came  running  up  the  beach,  his 
scabbard  scraping  the  shingle  as  he  went  by,  and 
his  first  words  explained  the  mystery  of  the 
crowd's  disappearance. 

"Where's  your  officer  commanding?"  he 
panted.  "The  devils  have  got  away  into  the  next 
cove  through  a  kind  of  hole  in  the  cliff — a  kind 
of  archway,  so  far  as  we  make  out.  They've 
blocked  it  with  stones  and  posted  three  or 
four  men  there,  threatening  sudden  death.  By 
their  own  account  they're  armed.  Major 
Dilke's  holding  them  to  parley  and  wants  the 
loan  of  a  lantern,  while  you,  sir,  march  your 
men  round  and  take  the  gang  in  the  rear.  They 
reckon  they've  none  but  us  to  deal  with." 
156 


I    FALL   AMONG    SMUGGLEES 

The  infantry  officer  grunted  that  he  under- 
stood, sent  the  trooper  back  with  a  lantern,  and 
quietly  formed  up  and  marched  off  his  company. 
From  my  hiding-place  I  caught  scraps  of  the 
parley  at  the  lower  end  of  the  beach,  or  rather 
of  Major  Dilke's  share  in  it,  for  the  smugglers 
answered  him  through  a  tunnel,  and  I  could 
only  hear  their  voices  mumbling  in  response  to 
the  threats  which  he  flung  forth  on  the  wide 
night.  He  was  in  no  sweet  temper,  having  been 
cheated  of  a  rich  haul,  for  the  flare  had,  of 
course,  warned  away  the  expected  boat,  and  I 
supposed  that  some  of  the  red-coats  had  been 
despatched  at  once  to  search  the  headland  for  the 
man  who  lit  it.  Revenge  was  now  the  Major's 
game,  and,  by  his  tone,  he  meant  to  have  it. 

But  while  I  lay  listening,  a  stone  trickled 
from  the  cliff  overhead  and  plunged  softly  upon 
the  sea-weed  at  the  mouth  of  my  cave.  It  was 
followed  by  a  rush  of  small  gravel  (had  the 
Major  not,  at  the  moment,  been  declaiming  at 
his  loudest  his  men  must  surely  have  heard  it), 
and  this  again  by  the  plumb  fall  of  a  heavy 
body,  which  lay  still  for  a  full  five  seconds  after 
alighting,  and  then  emitted  a  groan  so  eloquent 
that  it  raised  the  roots  of  my  hair. 
157 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

I  held  my  breath.  More  seconds  passed, 
and  the  body  groaned  again,  still  more  dole- 
fully. 

We  were  within  three  yards  of  one  another, 
and,  friend  or  foe,  if  he  continued  to  lie  and 
groan  like  this  for  long,  flesh  and  blood  could 
not  stand  it. 

"Are  you  hurt,  sir  ?"  I  summoned  up  voice  to 
ask. 

"The  devil!"  I  had  feared  that  he  would 
scream.  But  he  sat  up — I  saw  his  shoulders  fill 
the  mouth  of  the  cave  between  me  and  the  star- 
light. By  his  attitude  he  was  peering  at  me 
through  the  darkness.  "Who  are  you  ?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I'm  a  boy." 

"Glad  to  hear  it.  I  took  you  at  first  for  one 
of  those  cursed  soldiers.  Hiding,  eh?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"So  am  I,  but  this  is  a  mighty  poor  place  for 
it.  They  may  be  here  any  moment  with  their 
lanterns;  we  had  better  cut  across  while  every- 
thing's dark.  Gad !"  he  said,  throwing  his  head 
back,  as  if  to  stare  upward,  "I  must  have 
dropped  twenty  feet.  Wonder  if  I've  broken 
anything?"  He  stood  up,  and  appeared  to  be 
feeling  his  limbs  carefully.  "Sound  as  a  bell  1" 
158 


I   FALL   AMONG    SMUGGLERS 

he  announced.     "Come  along,  youngster;  we'll 
get  out  of  this  and  talk  afterwards." 

He  put  out  a  hand,  seeking  for  mine,  but 
missing  it,  touched  my  ribs  with  his  open  palm, 
and  drew  it  away  sharply. 

"Good  Lord,  the  boy's  naked!" 

"I've  been  swimming,"  said  I. 

"All  right.  Get  out  of  this  first  and  talk 
afterwards ;  that's  the  order.  There's  a  rug  in 
my  tilbury,  if  we  can  only  reach  it.  Now,  then, 
follow  me  close,  and  gently  over  the  shingle." 

Like  shadows  we  stole  forth  and  across  the 
cove.  No  one  spied  us,  and,  thanks  perhaps  to 
Major  Dilke's  sustained  oratory,  no  one  heard. 

"There's  a  track  hereabouts,"  my  new  friend 
whispered,  as  we  gained  the  farther  cliff.  "This 
looks  like  it — no — yes,  here  it  is!  Close  after 
me,  sonny,  and  up  we  go.  Damme,  'tis  Robinson 
Crusoe  and  Man  Friday,  with  a  touch  of  some- 
thing else  thrown  in — can't  think  what,  for  the 
moment,  unless  'tis  the  scaling  of  Platoea.  Ever 
read  'Thucydides'  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

"He's  a  nigger.    He  floored  me  at  Brasenose, 
but  I  bear  the  old  cock  no  malice.     Now,  you 
wouldn't  think  I  was  a  university  man,  eh  ?" 
159 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"No,  sir."  I  had  not  the  least  notion  of  his 
meaning. 

"I  am,  though ;  and,  what's  more,  I'm  a  Jus- 
tice of  the  Peace  and  Deputy  Lieutenant  for  the 
County  of  Cornwall.  Ever  heard  of  Jack 
Rogers,  of  Brynn?" 

Once  more  I  had  to  answer,  "No,  sir." 

"Then,  excuse  me,  but  where  in  thunder  do 
you  come  from  ?"  He  halted  and  confronted  me 
in  the  path.  This  was  a  facer,  for  the  words 
"Justice  of  the  Peace"  had  already  set  me  quak- 
ing. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I'd  rather  not  tell." 

"No,  I  dare  say  not/'  he  replied,  magisteri- 
ally. "It's  my  fate  to  get  into  these  false  posi- 
tions. Now,  there  was  Josh  Truscott,  of  Blow- 
inghouse — Justice  of  the  Peace  and  owned  two 
thousand  acres — what  you  might  call  a  neat  lit- 
tle property.  He  never  allowed  it  to  interfere, 
and  yet  somehow  he  carried  it  off.  Do  I  make 
myself  plain  ?" 

"Not  very,  sir." 

"Well,  for  instance,  one  day  he  was  expect- 
ing company.  There  was  a  fountain  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  lawn  at  Blowinghouse  and  a  statue  of 
Hercules  that  his  old  father  had  brought  home 
160 


I    FALL    AMONG    SMUGGLERS 

from  Italy  and  planted  in  the  middle  of  it. 
Josh  couldn't  bear  that  statue — said  the  muscles 
were  all  wrong.  So,  if  you  please,  he  takes  it 
down,  dresses  himself  in  nothing  at  all — same  as 
you  might  be,  bare  as  my  palm — and  a  Justice 
of  the  Peace,  mind  you — and  stands  himself  in 
the  middle  of  the  fountain,  with  all  the  guests 
arriving.  Not  an  easy  thing  to  pass  off,  and  it 
caused  a  scandal.  But  folks  didn't  seem  to 
mind.  'It  was  Truscott's  way/  they  said ;  'after 
all,  he  comes  of  a  clever  family,  and  we  hope  his 
son  will  be  better.'  A  man  wants  character  to 
carry  off  a  thing  like  that." 

I  agreed  that  character  must  have  been  Mr. 
Truscott's  secret. 

"Now  I  couldn't  do  that  for  the  life  of  me," 
Mr.  Eogers  sighed,  and  chuckled  over  another 
reminiscence.  "Josh  had  a  shindy  once  with  a 
groom.  The  fellow  asked  for  a  rise  in  wages. 
'You  couldn't  have  said  anything  more  hurtful 
to  my  feelings,'  Josh  told  him,  and  knocked  him 
down.  There  was  a  hole  in  one  of  his  orchards, 
where  they'd  been  rooting  up  an  old  apple-tree. 
He  put  the  fellow  in  that,  tilled  him  up  to  his 
neck  in  earth,  and  kept  him  there  till  he  apolo- 
gised. Not  at  all  an  easy  thing  for  a  Justice  of 
161 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

the  Peace  to  pass  off ;  but,  bless  you,  folks  didn't 
mind — said  that  he  came  of  a  clever  family  and 
hoped  his  son  would  be  better.  The  fellow 
didn't  even  bring  an  action."  Mr.  Eogers  broke 
off  suddenly,  and  seemed  to  meditate  a  new  train 
of  thought.  "Hang  it!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  be- 
lieve 'tis  a  hundred  pounds.  I  must  look  it  up 
when  I  get  back." 

"What's  a  hundred  pounds,  sir  ?"  I  asked. 

"Penalty  for  showing  a  coast  light  without 
authority.  Lydia  laid  me  ten  pounds  I  hadn't 
the  pluck,  though ;  and  that'll  bring  it  down  to 
ninety  at  the  worst.  She'd  thirty  in  this  trip, 
too,  which  she  stood  to  lose;  but,  as  it  turns 
out,  I've  saved  that  for  her.  Oh,  she's  a 
treasure !" 

"Did  you  light  the  flare  ?"  I  began  to  see  that 
I  had  fallen  in  with  an  original,  and  that  he 
might  be  honoured. 

"Eh  ?  to  be  sure  I  did.  Slocked  away  the  man 
in  charge  by  mimicking  Pascoe's  voice — he's  the 
freighter,  and  talks  like  a  man  with  no  roof  to 
his  mouth.  I'm  a  pretty  good  mimic,  though  I 
say  it.  Nothing  easier,  after  that.  You  see, 
Lydia  had  laid  me  ten  pounds  as  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace  that  I  hadn't  wit  nor  pluck  to  spoil  her 
162 


I    FALL    AMONG    SMUGGLERS 

next  run — honestly,  that  is.  She  knows  I 
wouldn't  blow  on  her  for  worlds.  Oh,  we  un- 
derstand one  another !  Now,  you  and  I'll  go  off 
and  call  on  her,  and  hear  what  she  says  about  it. 
For  in  a  way  I've  won,  and  in  a  way  I've  not. 
I  stopped  the  run,  but  also  I've  saved  the  cargo 
for  her ;  for  the  devil  a  notion  had  I  that  the  sol- 
diers had  wind  of  it,  and,  but  for  the  flare,  the 
boats  would  have  run  in  and  lost  every  tub. 
Here  we  are,  my  lad !" 

We  had  climbed  the  cliff  and  were  crossing  a 
field  of  stubble  grass,  very  painful  to  my  feet. 
I  saw  the  shadow  of  a  low  hedge  in  front,  but 
these  words  of  Mr.  Rogers  conveyed  nothing  to 
me.  "Soh,  soli,  my  girl !"  he  called,  softly,  ad- 
vancing towards  the  shadow;  and  at  first  I 
supposed  him  to  be  addressing  the  mysterious 
Lydia.  But  following  I  saw  him  smoothing  the 
neck  of  a  small  mare  tethered  beside  the  hedge, 
and  the  next  moment  had  almost  blundered 
against  a  light  two-wheeled  carriage  resting  on 
its  shafts  a  few  yards  away. 

Mr.  Rogers  whispered  to  me  to  lift  the  shafts. 

"And  be  quiet  about  it;  there's  a  road  t'other 

side   of   the   hedge.      Soh,    my   girl — sweetly, 

sweetly !"     He  backed  the  mare  between  the 

163 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

shafts,  harnessed  her,  and  led  her  along  to  a  gate 
opening  on  the  road. 

"Jump  up,  my  lad,"  he  commanded,  as  he 
steered  the  tilbury  through;  and  up  I  jumped. 
"There's  a  rug  somewhere  by  your  feet  and 
Lydia'll  do  the  rest  for  you.  Cl'k,  my  darling  1" 

And  away  we  bowled. 


164 


CHAPTEE  XIII 

THE    MAN    ON    THE    VERANDAH 

THE  mare  settled  down  to  a  beautiful  stride 
and  we  spun  along  smoothly  over  a  road  which, 
for  a  coast  road,  must  have  been  exceptionally 
well  laid,  or  else  Mr.  Rogers' s  tilbury  was  hung 
on  exceptionally  good  springs.  We  were  travel- 
ling inland,  for  the  wind  blew  in  our  faces,  and  I 
huddled  myself  up  from  it  in  the  rug — on  which, 
by  the  way,  a  heavy  dew  had  fallen,  making  it 
damp  and  sticky.  For  two  miles  or  so  we  must 
have  held  on  at  this  pace  without  exchanging  a 
word,  meeting  neither  vehicle  nor  pedestrian  in 
all  that  distance,  nor  passing  any ;  and  so  came 
to  a  sign-post  and  swerved  by  it  into  a  broader 
road,  which  ran  level  for  maybe  half-a-mile  and 
then  began  to  climb.  At  the  foot  of  this  rise  Mr. 
Rogers  eased  down  the  mare  and  handed  me  the 
reins,  bidding  me  hold  them  while  he  lit  a  cigar. 

"We're  safe  enough  now/'  said  he,  pulling 
165 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

out  a  pocket  tinder-box,  "and  while  I'm  about  it 
we'd  better  light  the  lamps."  He  slipped  them 
from  their  sockets  and  lit  them  cleverly  from  the 
same  brimstone  match.  "The  Highflyer's  due 
about  this  time/'  he  explained;  "and  Russell's 
waggon's  another  nasty  thing  to  hit  in  the  dark. 
We're  on  the  main  road,  you  know." 

I  did  not  know  it,  but  wanted  courage  to  tell 
him  that  there  were  reasons  which  made  the 
main  road  extremely  dangerous  for  me.  Before 
refixing  the  lamp  beside  him  he  held  it  up  for  a 
good  stare  at  me,  and  grinned. 

"Well,  you're  a  nice  guest  for  a  spinster  at 
this  hour,  I  must  say !  But  there's  no  shyness 
about  Lydia." 

I  liked  my  glimpses  of  his  good-natured  face, 
young,  and  none  too  wise-looking,  but  red  with 
honest  weather — the  face  of  a  gentleman,  if  of 
a  hawbuck.  "Is  she — is  Miss  Lydia  unmar- 
ried ?"  I  made  bold  to  ask. 

"Lydia  Belcher's  a  woman  in  a  thousand. 
Keep  that  in  your  mind  if  she  scares  you  a  bit 
at  first.  There's  no  better  fellow  living,  and 
I've  known  worse  ladies.  Yes,  she's  unmar- 
ried." 

He  took  the  reins  from  me  and  the  mare 
166 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    VEEANDAH 

quickened  her  pace.  After  sucking  at  his  cigar 
for  a  while  he  chuckled  aloud :  "She's  to  be  seen 
to  be  believed;  past  forty  and  wears  top-boots. 
Shouldn't  wonder,  though,  if  she  was  a  beauty 
in  her  day;  indeed,  I've  heard  as  much.  Her 
mother's  looks  were  famous;  she  was  daughter 
to  one  of  the  Earl's  cottagers  on  the  edge  of  the 

moors "      Here    Mr.    Rogers    jerked    his 

thumb  significantly,  but  in  what  direction  the 
night  hid  from  me.  "Married  old  Jam  Belcher, 
one  of  his  lordship's  keepers,  a  fellow  not  fit  to 
black  her  boots,  and  had  this  one  child,  Lydia. 
This  was  just  about  the  time  of  the  Earl's  own 
marriage.  Folks  talked,  of  course;  and,  sure 
enough,  when  the  Earl  came  to  die  'twas  found 
he'd  left  Lydia  a  thousand  a  year  in  the  funds. 
That's  the  story ;  and  Lydia — well,  she's  Lydia. 
Couldn't  marry  where  she  would,  I  suppose,  and 
wouldn't  where  she  could ;  so  she's  a  spinster  to- 
day, with  a  nice  little  house  of  her  own  and 
stables;  rides  to  hounds  when  she  hasn't  the 
gout,  and  can  throw  a  fly  with  any  man  living. 
Some  call  her  Lydia,  others  Dick — 'Lydia,  die 
per  omnes?  you  know — an  old  joke  of  Parson 
Doidge's,  who  (they  say)  made  love  to  her  when 
he  was  turned  sixty,  and  she  but  a  slip  of  a  girl. 
167 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

I  dare  say  she's  been  sorry  enough  since  that  she 
didn't  have  him.  But  now  she'll  never  marry — 
though  they  do  say  Whitmore's  trimming  sail 
for  her." 

"Whitmore  3"  I  echoed. 

"Ay,  the  curate ;  monstrous  clever  fellow,  and 
a  sportsman,  too.  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  man. 
Don't  happen  to  know  him,  do  you  ?" 

"Is  he  a  thin-faced  gentleman,  very  neatly 
dressed  ?  Oh,  but  it  can't  be  the  gentleman  I 
mean,  sir !  The  one  I  mean  has  a  slow  way  of 
speaking,  and  the  hair  seems  gone  on  each  side 
of  his  forehead " 

"That's  Whitmore,  to  a  T.  So  you  know 
him?  Well,  you'll  meet  him  at  Lydia's,  I 
shouldn't  wonder.  He's  there  most  nights." 

"If  you  please,  sir,  will  you  set  me  down  ?  I 
can  shift  for  myself  somehow — indeed  I  can !  I 
promised — that  is,  I  mean,  Mr.  Whitmore 
won't  like  it  if— if " 

While  I  stammered  on  Mr.  Rogers  pulled  up 
the  mare,  quartering  at  the  same  time  to  make 
room  for  the  mail  coach  as  it  thundered  up  the 
road  from  westward  and  swept  by  at  the  gallop, 
with  lamps  flashing  and  bits  and  swingles 
shaken  in  chorus. 

168 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    VERANDAH 

"Look  here,  what's  the  matter?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"Please,  sir,  let  me  get  down !" 

"Why  don't  you  want  to  meet  Whitmore?" 
Then  as  I  would  not  answer,  but  continued  to  en- 
treat him:  "The  devil  take  it!"  he  cried; 
"you've  a  secret  of  mine  that  would  cost  me 
a  hundred  pounds  if  you  choose  to  inform " 

"But  I  never  thought  of  it !"  I  protested. 

He  seemed  to  consider,  and  ended  by  flicking 
his  whip  and  walking  the  mare  forward  slowly. 
"No,  I  don't  believe  you're  that  sort  of  a  boy, 
somehow.  I  like  your  voice  and  I  like  your 
manner,  and  yet  there's  something  deuced  fishy 
about  you.  Here  I  find  you,  stark  naked,  hid- 
ing from  the  soldiers;  yet  you  can't  be  one  of 
the  'trade,'  for  you  don't  know  the  country  or 
the  folks  living  hereabouts — only  Whitmore; 
and  Whitmore  you  won't  meet,  and  your  name 
you  won't  tell,  nor  where  you  come  from — only 
that  you've  been  swimming.  '  Swimming.' 
Good  Lord!  You  don't  swim  from  France,  I 
take  it."  He  broke  off  again  and  fell  into  a 
muse.  "And  I'm  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  and 
the  Lord  knows  what  deviltry  I'm  compound- 
ing with."  He  mused  again.  "Tell  you  what 
169 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAKEY   KEVEL 

I'll  do!"  he  exclaimed.  "I'll  take  you  up  to 
Lydia's,  as  I  promised.  If  Whitmore's  there 
you  sha'n't  meet  him  if  you  don't  want  to ;  and 
if  the  house  is  full — for  I  warn  you  it's  likely ; 
she  sits  late — I'll  drop  you  in  the  shrubbery 
with  the  rug  and  get  them  to  break  up  early. 
Only  I  must  have  your  solemn  davey  that  you'll 
stay  there  and  not  quit  until  I  give  you  leave. 
Is  that  a  bargain?" 

I  gave  that  promise. 

"Bright  and  shining?  Send  I  may  die  if  I 
do.  Very  well.  I'll  tip  the  wink  to  Lydia,  and 
when  we've  cleared  the  company  we'll  have  you 
in  and  get  the  rights  of  this.  Oh,  you  may  trust 
Lydia!" 

As  he  said  this  we  were  passing  a  house  the 
long,  whitewashed  front  of  which  abutted  glim- 
mering on  the  road.  A  light  shone  behind  the 
blind  of  one  lower  window  and  showed  through 
a  chink  under  the  door.  "The  Major's  sitting 
up  late,"  observed  Mr.  Kogers,  half  to  himself, 
and  again  flicked  up  the  mare. 

It  must  have  been  ten  minutes  later,  or,  per- 
haps, three,  when,  as  the  road  rose  under  a  black 
arch  of  elm  trees,  he  pulled  the  left  rein,  and  we 
swung  suddenly  through  an  open  gateway  and 
170 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    VERANDAH 

were  rolling  over  soft  gravel.  Tall  bushes  of 
laurel  on  either  hand  glinted  back  the  lights  of 
the  tilbury,  and  presently  around  a  sweep  of  the 
drive  I  saw  a  window  shining.  Mr.  Rogers 
pulled  up  once  more. 

"Jump  out  and  take  the  path  to  the  left.  It'll 
bring  you  out  almost  facing  the  front  door.  Get 
among  the  laurels  there,  and  wait." 

I  climbed  down  and  drew  the  rug  about  me 
as  he  drove  on,  and  I  heard  the  tilbury's  wheels 
come  to  a  halt  on  the  gravel  before  the  house. 
Then,  following  the  path  which  wound  about  a 
small  shrubbery  I  came  to  the  edge  of  the  gravel 
sweep  before  the  porch  just  as  a  groom  took  the 
mare  and  cart  from  him  and  led  them  around  to 
the  left,  toward  the  stables.  I  saw  this  dis- 
tinctly, for  on  the  right  of  the  porch,  where 
there  ran  a  pretty  deep  verandah,  each  window 
on  the  ground  floor  flung  a  blaze  of  light  across 
the  gravel  to  the  laurels  behind  which  I 
crouched.  There  were,  in  all,  five  windows  lit, 
of  which  three  seemed  to  belong  to  an  empty 
room,  and  two  to  another  filled  with  people. 
The  windows  of  this  one  stood  wide  open,  and 
the  racket  within  was  prodigious.  Also  the  com- 
pany seemed  to  consist  entirely  of  men.  But 
171 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAREY   REVEL 

what  surprised  me  most  was  to  see  that  the 
tables  at  which  these  guests  drank  and  supped — 
as  the  clatter  of  knives  and  plates  told  me,  and 
the  shouting  of  toasts — were  drawn  up  in  a 
semi-circle  about  a  tall  bed-canopy  reaching  al- 
most to  the  ceiling  in  the  far  right-hand  corner. 
The  bed  itself  was  hidden  from  me  by  the  broad 
backs  of  two  sportsmen  seated  in  line  with 
it  and  nursing  a  bottle  a  piece  under  their 
chairs. 

Now,  while  I  wondered,  Mr.  Jack  Eogers — 
having  divested  himself  of  his  driving-coat  in 
the  hall — passed  briskly  through  the  room  with 
the  closed  windows  towards  this  chamber  of  rev- 
elry, preceded  by  an  elderly  woman  with  a  smok- 
ing dish  in  her  hands.  I  could  not  see  the  door- 
way between  the  two  rooms,  but  the  company  an- 
nounced his  appearance  there  with  an  uproar- 
ious shout,  and,  several  guests  pushing  back 
their  chairs  and  rising  to  welcome  him,  in  the 
same  instant  were  disclosed  to  me ;  first,  the  pale 
face  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Whitmore  under  a  sporting 
print  by  the  wall  opposite,  and  next,  reclining 
in  the  bed,  the  most  extraordinary  figure  of  a 
woman. 

So  much  of  her  as  appeared  above  the  bed- 
172 


THE   MAN   ON   THE   VEKANDAH 

clothes  was  arrayed  in  an  orange-coloured  dress- 
ing-gown and  a  night-cap,  the  frills  of  which 
towered  over  a  face  remarkable  in  many  ways, 
but  chiefly  for  its  broad  masculine  forehead  and 
the  firm  outline  of  its  jaw  and  chin.  Indeed, 
though  overspread  for  the  moment  by  broad 
hilarity,  it  asserted  itself  at  once  as  too  good  for 
this  company  of  hawbucks ;  although  you  might 
not  at  once  have  perceived  this,  being  occupied 
with  wondering  how  such  a  face  came  to  belong 
to  a  woman.  A  slight  darkening  of  the  upper 
lip  even  suggested  a  moustache,  but  on  a  second 
look  I  set  this  down  to  the  shadow  of  the  bed- 
canopy. 

A  small  round  table  stood  at  her  elbow,  with 
a  bottle  and  plate  upon  it;  and  in  one  hand  she 
lifted  a  steaming  ummer  to  Mr.  Rogers' s  health, 
crooking  back  the  spoon  in  it  with  her  forefinger 
as  she  drank,  that  it  might  not  incommode  her 
aquiline  nose. 

"Good  health,  Jack,  and  sit  you  down !"  she 
haled  him,  her  voice  ringing  above  the  others' 
like  a  bell.  "Tripe  and  onions  it  is,  and  Plym- 
outh gin — the  usual  fare ;  and  while  you're 
helping  yourself,  tell  me — do  I  owe  you  ten 

pounds,  or  no  ?" 

173 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"That  depends,"  Mr.  Kogers  answered, 
searching  about  for  a  clean  plate  and  seating 
himself  amid  the  hush  of  the  company.  "All  the 
horses  back?" 

"Five  of  'em.  They  came  in  together,  nigh 
on  an  hour  ago,  and  not  a  tub  between  'em.  The 
roan's  missing."  Her  voice  sank,  and  of  her 
next  words  I  caught  only  the  name  "Jim,"  and 
something  which  sounded  like  "own  stable." 

"Unless  the  red-coats  have  him,"  said  Mr. 
Rogers  deliberately,  holding  out  his  tumbler  of 
Plymouth  gin.  "Here,  pass  the  kettle,  some- 
body!" 

"Red-coats  ?"  she  cried,  sharply.  "You  don't 

tell  me ."  But  the  sentence  was  drowned  by 

a  new  and  (to  me)  very  horrible  noise — the  fu- 
rious barking  of  dogs  from  the  stables  or  kennels 
in  the  rear  of  the  house.  Here  was  a  danger 
which  had  not  occurred  to  me ;  and  I  liked  it  so 
little — the  prospect  of  being  bayed  naked 
through  those  pitch-dark  shrubberies  by  a  pack 
of  hounds — that  without  waiting  to  consider  it, 
and  prompted  only  by  fear,  I  broke  from  my 
covert  of  laurel,  hurriedly  skirted  the  broad 
patch  of  light  on  the  carriage-sweep,  and 
plumped  down  close  to  the  windows,  behind  a 
174 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    VERANDAH 

bush  of  mock-orange  at  the  end  of  the  verandah. 
Crouching  there,  I  could  not  see  into  the  room  as 
before,  but  a  couple  of  leaps  would  land  me  with- 
in it  among  Miss  Belcher's  guests,  and  I  felt  that 
even  Mr.  Whitmore  was  less  formidable  than 
Miss  Belcher's  dogs,  of  whose  teeth  my  small 
calves  were  distressfully  presentient. 

The  noise  of  their  barking  died  down  after  a 
minute  or  so,  and  the  company,  at  first  discon- 
certed by  it  (or  so  it  appeared  by  their  silence), 
began  to  call  again  upon  Jack  Kogers  for  his  ex- 
planation. It  now  turned  out  that,  quite  unin- 
tentionally, I  had  so  posted  myself  as  to  hear 
every  word  spoken;  and,  I  regret  to  say,  was 
deep  in  Mr.  Rogers's  vivacious  story — from 
which  he  considerately  omitted  all  mention  of 
me — when  my  eye  caught  a  movement  among 
the  shadows  at  the  far  end  of  the  verandah. 

A  moment  later  a  man  came  stealing  along  it 
and  towards  me,  moving  noiselessly  and  hold- 
ing himself  close  by  the  house  wall. 

He  reached  the  first  of  the  lighted  windows 
and  paused,  flattening  himself  and  peering  war- 
ily around  its  angle.  This  room,  as  I  have  said, 
was  empty ;  but  while  he  assured  himself  of  this 
the  light  rested  on  his  face,  and  through  the 
175 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

branches  of  the  mock-orange  bush  I  saw  his  feat- 
ures distinctly.    It  was  Sergeant  Letcher. 

He  wore  his  red  uniform  and  white  panta- 
loons, but  had  slipped  off  his  boots,  and — as  I 
saw  when  he  rapidly  passed  the  next  two  panels 
of  light — was  carrying  them  in  his  hand. 
Eeaching  the  first  of  the  open  windows,  he  stood 
for  a  while  in  the  shade  beside  it,  listening,  and 
then,  to  my  astonishment,  turned  and  stole  back 
bly  the  way  he  had  come.  I  watched  him  till  he 
disappeared  at  the  far  end  in  the  darkness  be- 
yond the  house-porch. 

Now  while  this  was  happening  outside  within 
the  room  Miss  Belcher  had  been  calling  to  clear 
away  the  supper  and  set  out  the  tables  for  cards. 

"Nonsense,  Lydia !"  Mr.  Eogers  had  objected. 
"It's  a  good  one-in-the-morning,  and  the  com- 
pany tired.  Where's  the  sense,  too,  of  keeping 
the  place  ablaze  on  a  night  like  this,  with  Ganger 
Rosewarne  scouring  the  country  and  the 
dragoons,  as  like  as  not,  behind  him,  and  all  in 
the  worst  possible  tempers?" 

"My   little    Magistrate,"    Miss    Belcher    re 

torted,  "there's  naught  to  hinder  your  trotting 

home  to  bed  if  you  list — or  if  you're  timorous — 

Jim's  on  his  way  to  the  moor  by  this  time  with 

176 


THE   MAN    ON    THE    VERANDAH 

the  rest  of  the  horses ;  'twas  at  his  starting  the 
dogs  gave  tongue,  a  minute  since,  and  I'll  have 
to  teach  them  better  manners.  As  for  the  roan, 
if  he's  hurt,  or  Kosewarne  happens  on  him, 
there's  evidence  that  I  sold  him  to  a  gypsy  fel- 
low three  weeks  back,  at  St.  Germain's  Fair. 
Here,  Bethsheba,  take  the  keys  of  my  bureau 
upstairs ;  you'll  find  some  odd  notes  in  the  left- 
hand  drawer  by  the  fireplace.  Bring  Mr. 
Rogers  down  his  ten  pounds  and  let  him  go. 
We'll  not  compromise  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  if 
we  can  help  it." 

"If  you  put  it  that  I'm  afraid,  Lydia " 

Mr.  Eogers  began,  and  added,  ingenuously: 
"The  fact  is,  I  wanted  a  word  with  you  alone." 

"Oh,  you  scandalous  man !  and  me  tucked  be- 
tween the  sheets !"  she  protested,  while  the  com- 
pany haw-haw'd  with  laughter.  "You'll  have  to 
put  up  with  some  more  innocent  amusement,  my 
dear.  There's  a  badger  somewhere  round  at  the 
back  in  a  barrel ;  we'll  have  him  in  with  the  dogs 
if  you  wish — unless  you  prefer  a  quiet  round 
with  the  cards." 

"Oh,  d n  the  badger  at  this  hour !"  swore 

Mr.  Rogers.     "Cards  let  it  be,  if  we  must  play 

the  fool ;  they're  quiet,  at  any  rate.    Here,  Raby 

177 


ADVENTUEES    OF    HAREY   EEVEL 

— Penrose — Tregaskis — which  of  you'll  cut  in  ? 
Eh,  Whitmore  ?  You'll  take  a  hand,  won't  you  ?" 

I  heard  Mr.  Whitmore's  voice  for  the  first 
time.  He  was  politely  excusing  himself. 

"The  Parson's  tired  to-night,  and  with  better 
excuse  than  you.  He's  ridden  down  from 
Plymouth." 

"Hullo,  Whitmore — what  were  you  doing  in 
Plymouth  ?" 

Mr.  Whitmore  ignored  the  question.  "I'm 
ready  for  a  hand,  Miss  Belcher,"  he  announced, 
quietly ;  "only  let  it  be  something  quiet — a  rub- 
ber for  choice." 

"Half  guinea  points?"  asked  somebody. 

"Yes,  if  you  will." 

I  heard  them  settle  to  cards,  and  for  a  while 
their  voices  sank  to  a  murmur.  Now  and  again 
a  few  coins  clinked,  and  one  of  the  guests  yawned 
audibly. 

"You're  as  melancholy  as  gib-cats,"  an- 
nounced Miss  Belcher.  "The  next  man  that 
yawns  I'll  send  him  out  to  fetch  in  that  badger. 
Here,  tell  us  a  story,  somebody." 

"I  heard  the  beginning  of  a  queer  one,"  said 
Mr.  Whitmore,  in  his  deliberate  voice;  "the 
folks  were  discussing  it  at  Torpoint  Ferry  as  I 
178 


THE   MAN    ON    THE    VEKANDAH 

crossed.  It  seems  there's  been  a  murder  at 
Plymouth,  either  last  night  or  this  morning." 

"A  murder?     Who's  the  victim?" 

"An  old  Jew,  living  on  the  Barbican  or  there- 
abouts. Let  me  see — my  deal,  is  it  not  ?" 

"What's  his  name  I" 

"His  name  ?"  Mr.  Whitmore  seemed  to  be 
considering.  "Wait  a  moment,  or  I  shall  mis- 
deal." After  a  pause  he  said.  "A  Spanish- 
sounding  one — Eodriguez,  I  think ;  yes,  Rodri- 
guez.  They  were  all  full  of  it  at  the  Ferry." 

"What,  old  Ike  Rodriguez?  The  man  who 
was  down  in  these  parts  buying  up  guineas  the 
other  day  ?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rogers. 

"Was  he?"  asked  Mr.  Whitmore,  carelessly. 

"Why,  hang  it  all,  Whitmore,"  said  a  guest; 
"you  know  he  was !  More,  by  token,  I  pointed 
him  out  to  you  myself  on  Looe  Hill." 

"Was  that  the  man?" 

"Of  course  it  was.  Don't  you  remember  ad- 
miring his  face.  It  put  you  in  mind  of  Caiaphas 
— those  were  your  very  words,  and  at  the  mo- 
ment I  didn't  clearly  recollect  who  Caiaphas 
was.  It  can't  be  three  weeks  since." 

"Three  weeks  less  two  days,"  said  Miss 
Belcher ;  "for  he  called  here  and  bought  fifteen 
179 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

off  me — said  he'd  just  come  from  doing  business 
with  Jack,  here ;  so,  on  the  strength  of  his  deal- 
ing with  other  nobility  and  gentry,  I  traded,  and 
he  gave  me  twenty-four  shillings  and  sixpence 
apiece  for  all  but  one,  which  he  swore  was  light. 
Wanted  that  one  cheap,  but  I  kept  it  back. 
Who's  murdered  him?" 

"There  was  talk  of  a  boy,"  said  Mr.  Whit- 
more,  still  very  deliberately.  "At  least,  a  boy 
was  missing  who  had  been  seen  in  the  house  just 
previously,  or  so  I  gathered,  and  that  they  were 
watching  the  ferries  for  him.  But  nobody 
seemed  very  clear  about  it.  Why,  surely, 
Rogers,  that's  a  revoke !" 

"A  revoke  ?"  stammered  Mr.  Rogers.  "So  it 

is — I  beg  your  pardon,  Tregaskis — but,  d n 

the  cards !  I'm  too  sleepy  to  tell  one  suit  from 
another." 

"That  makes  our  game,  then,  and  the  rubber. 
Rub  and  rub — shall  we  play  the  conqueror? 
No  ?  As  you  please,  then.  How  do  we  stand  ?" 

"We  owe  three  guineas  on  points,"  growled 
a  voice  which,  to  judge  by  its  sulkiness,  belonged 
to  Mr.  Tregaskis. 

"As  good  as  a  gift  with  the  cards  you  held," 
said  Mr.  Whitmore,  and  I  thought  I  heard  the 
180 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    VEEANDAH 

coins  jingle  in  his  hand,  when  from  the  shrub- 
bery to  my  left,  where  the  gravel-sweep  nar- 
rowed, there  sounded  the  low  hoot  of  an  owl. 
Being  town-bred,  and  unused  to  owls,  I  shrank 
closer  against  my  mock-orange  bush ;  nay,  as  you 
may  suppose,  I  was  in  a  state  of  mind  which 
needed  less  than  an  owl's  hoot  to  scare  me. 

"Hullo,  Whitmore — you've  dropped  some  of 
your  winnings.  Here  it  is  by  the  table  leg — a 
guinea.  Take  twenty-four  shilling  for  it,  now 
that  old  Rodriguez  is  gone  ?" 

"I  beg  your  pardon."  Mr.  Whitmore  thanked 
the  speaker,  and  the  coin  was  restored  to  him. 
"It's  close  here,  as  Mr.  Rogers  says,  and  I  think 
I'll  step  out  for  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air. 
Phe-ew !"  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  appeared 
at  the  window ;  "it  can't  be  long  now  before  the 
dawn." 

He  strolled  carelessly  out  beneath  the  veran- 
dah, and  stood  for  a  moment  by  one  of  its  pil- 
lars. And  at  that  moment  the  owl's  cry  sounded 
again,  but  more  softly,  from  the  shrubbery  on 
my  left.  I  knew,  then,  that  it  came  from  no  true 
owl.  With  a  swift  glance  back  into  the  room 
Mr.  Whitmore  stepped  out  upon  the  gravel  and 
followed  it,  almost  brushing  the  mock-orange 
bush  as  he  passed. 

181 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    MOCK-ORANGE    BUSH 

To  my  worse  dismay,  he  halted  but  five  paces 
from  me. 

"Is  that  you,  Lethbridge  ?"  he  asked  in  an 
anxious  whisper. 

"Sergeant  Letcher,  if  you  please,"  answered 
a  quiet  voice  close  by ;  "unless  you  prefer  to  be 
called  Peacock." 

"No  so  loud — the  windows  are  open.  How 
on  earth  did  you  come  here  ?  You're  not  with 
the  van  to-night  ?" 

"I  came  on  a  horse,  and  a  lame  one — one  of 
your  tub-carriers.  The  captain  saw  me  mount 
him  down  at  the  cove,  and  sent  me  off  to  scour 
the  country  for  evidence.  I  guessed  pretty  well 
in  what  direction  he'd  take  me.  But  you're  a 
careless  lot,  I  will  say.  Look  at  this  bit  of  rope." 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  talk  so  loud !  Rope  ? 
What  rope  ?" 

"Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  it — yet.  It's 
182 


THE    MOCK-ORANGE    BUSH 

not  your  sort — and  that's  just  the  point.  Here ; 
if  you  can't  see,  take  hold  and  feel  it — left- 
handed,  you'll  notice — French  sling-stuff.  And 
that  Belcher  woman  has  no  more  sense  of  cau- 
tion than  to  tie  up  her  roses  with  it !  I  got  this 
off  a  bush  in  her  front  porch.  Now,  see  here, 
my  son" — and  his  voice  became  a  snarl — "it 
may  do  for  her  to  play  tricks — she's  licensed,  in 
a  way.  All  the  country  know  her,  the  magis- 
trates included,  and  will  give  her  leave  to  steal  a 
horse  where  another  mayn't  look  over  the  gate. 
But  for  the  likes  of  you  this  dancing  on  the  edge 
of  the  law  is  unhealthy.  I  wonder  you  can't  see 
it ;  you  never  used  to  be  noted  for  pluck.  Any- 
way, I  point  it  out  to  you — it's  risky,  and  I 
can't  afford  it.  Understand?  Why  the  devil 
you  haunt  the  house  as  you  do  is  more  than  I  can 
fathom,  unless,  maybe,  you're  making  up  to 
marry  the  old  fool."  He  paused,  and  added  con- 
templatively :  "  'T would  be  something  in  your 
line,  to  be  sure.  Women  were  always  your 
game." 

"You  didn't  whistle  me  out  to  tell  me  this," 
said  Mr.  Whitmore,  stiffly ;  but  I  could  hear  that 
he  stood  in  terror  of  the  man. 

"No,  I  did  not.     I  want  ten  pounds." 
183 


ADVENTUEES    OF    HAEEY    EEVEL 

Mr.  Whitmore  groaned.  "Look  here, 
Leth " 

"Be  careful!" 

"Well,  but  look  here — this  makes  twice  in  ten 
days.  It's  too  much,  you  know — it's  pushing 
a  man  too  hard  altogether." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  Letcher  assured  him  cheer- 
fully. "You're  too  devilish  fond  of  your  own 
neck,  my  lad,  and  I  know  it  too  devilish  well  to 
be  come  over  by  that  talk."  He  chuckled  to  him- 
self. "Famous  plan,  this — you  do  the  work  and 
pay  the  wages,  too.  You  don't  do  it  too  well, 
though,  I  must  warn  you.  How's  the  beauty 
down  at  the  cottage  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Mr.  Whitmore  answered, 
sulkily.  "Is  Plinlimmon  there?" 

"No,  he's  not;  and  you  ought  to  know  he's 
not.  Where  have  you  been,  all  day  ?" 

The  curate  was  silent. 

"He'll  be  down  again  on  Saturday,  though. 
The  Colonel's  as  sweet  on  him  as  ever ;  but,  for 
that  matter,  leave  of  absence  is  going  cheap,  just 
now.  I've  an  idea  that  our  marching  orders 
must  be  about  due,  and  the  old  man  knows  it. 
Maybe  I'll  be  able  to  run  down  myself,  though 
my  father  hadn't  the  luck  to  be  a  friend  of  his. 
184 


THE    MOCK-OEANGE    BUSH 

If  I  don't,  you're  to  keep  your  eye  lifting  and 
report." 

"Is  there  really  a  chance  of  the  order  com- 
ing ?"  asked  Mr.  Whitmore,  with  a  shake  in  his 
low  voice. 

"Dissemble  your  joy,  my  friend.  When  it 
comes  I  shall  call  on  you  for  fifty.  Meanwhile 
I  tell  you  to  keep  your  eye  lifting.  The  bat- 
talion's raw  yet.  About  the  order,  it's  only  my 
guesswork,  and  before  we  sail  you  may  yet  do 
the  christening." 

"It's  damnable!"  broke  out  the  clergyman, 
suddenly. 

"Hush,  you  fool!  Gad,  if  somebody  hasn't 
heard  you!  Who's  that?" 

They  held  their  breath,  and  I  held  mine, 
pressing  my  body  into  the  mock-orage  bush  until 
the  twigs  cracked.  Mr.  Jack  Kogers  stepped  out 
upon  the  verandah,  and  stood  by  one  of  the  pil- 
lars, not  a  dozen  yards  from  me,  contemplating 
the  sky,  where  the  dawn  was  now  beginning  to 
break  over  the  damp  shrubberies.  While  he 
stood  there  I  heard  the  two  men  tip-toeing  away 
through  the  laurels. 

He,  too,  seemed  to  catch  a  sound  of  it,  for  he 
turned  his  head  sharply  in  their  direction.  But 
185 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

at  that  moment  Miss  Belcher's  voice  called 
him  from  within,  and  he  stepped  hack  into  the 
room. 

A  minute  later  he  reappeared  with  a  loaf  of 
bread  in  either  hand  and  walked  moodily  past 
my  bush  without  turning  his  head  or  observing 
me. 

I  faced  about  cautiously  and  looked  after  him. 
From  this  end  of  the  verandah  the  ground,  shel- 
tered on  the  right  by  a  belt  of  evergreen  trees, 
fell  away  steeply  to  a  valley,  at  the  foot  of  which, 
under  the  paling  sky,  a  sheet  of  water  glim- 
mered. Toward  this,  down  the  grassy  slope,  Mr. 
Rogers  went  with  long  strides.  I  broke  cover 
and  ran  after  him. 

I  had  still  too  much  sense  left  to  shout ;  but  I 
ran  as  fast  as  my  hurt  hip  and  the  trailing  folds 
of  the  rug  allowed.  The  grass  under  foot  was 
grey  with  dew,  and  overhead  the  birds  were 
singing.  An  old  horse  that  had  been  sleeping  in 
his  pasture  heaved  himself  up  and  gazed  at  me 
as  I  went  by,  and  I  think  the  sound  of  this  up- 
heaval must  have  struck  Mr.  Eogers's  ear.  At 
any  rate  he  turned  and  allowed  me  to  catch  up 
with  him. 

"It's  you,  eh  ?  Hanged  if  I  hadn't  forgotten 
186 


THE    MOCK-ORANGE    BUSH 

you;  here,  catch  hold,  if  you're  feeling  peck- 
ish." 

He  thrust  a  loaf  into  my  hands,  and  I  fell  on  it 
ravenously,  plucking  off  a  crust  and  gnawing  it 
while  I  trotted  beside  him — for  he  held  on  his 
way  down  the  slope. 

"Got  to  feed  her  blessed  swans  now,"  he  mut- 
tered. "The  deuce  is  in  her  for  perversity  to- 
night." 

He  kept  growling  to  himself,  knitting  his 
brow  and  pausing  once  or  twice  for  a  moody 
stare.  He  was  not  drunk,  and  his  high  com- 
plexion showed  no  trace  of  his  all-night  sitting, 
and  yet  something  had  changed  him  utterly  from 
the  cheerful  gentleman  of  a  few  hours  back. 

The  water  when  we  reached  it  proved  to  be 
an  artificial  lake,  very  cunningly  contrived  to 
resemble  a  wild  one.  At  the  head  of  it,  where 
we  trod  on  asphodels  and  sweet-smelling  mints 
and  brushed  the  young  stalks  of  the  goose-strife, 
we  found  a  rustic  bridge  partly  screened  by  al- 
ders. Here  Mr.  Rogers  halted,  and  a  couple  of 
fine  swans  came  steering  towards  him  out  of  the 
shadows. 

He  broke  his  loaf  into  two  pieces.  "That's 
for  you,"  he  exclaimed,  hurling  the  first  chunk 
187 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

viciously  at  the  male  bird.  The  pair  turned  in 
alarm  at  the  splash  and  paddled  away,  hissing 
in  their  flurry.  "And  that's  for  you!"  The 
second  chunk  caught  the  female  full  astern,  and 
Mr.  Rogers  leaned  on  the  rail  and  laughed 
grimly.  After  a  while  he  stood  erect,  thrust  his 
hand  into  his  breeches  pocket  and  drew  forth  a 
guinea.  The  young  daylight  touched  its  edge 
as  it  lay  in  his  palm. 

"I'm  a  Justice  of  the  Peace.  What  would 
you  say  if  I  tossed  that  after  the  bread?" 

"What's  the  matter  with  it,  sir  ?" 

He  turned  it  over  gingerly  with  his  forefinger. 
"See — it's  marked,"  he  said.  "I  put  that  mark 
on  it  myself,  for  sport,  three  weeks  ago,  and  this 
very  night  I  won  it  back." 

"Was  it  one  you  sold  to  Mr.  Rodriguez  ?"  I 
asked. 

"Hey  ?"  I  thought  he  would  have  taken  me 
by  the  collar,  so  suddenly  he  faced  upon  me. 
"What  do  you  know  of  Rodriguez,  boy  ?" 

"I — I  was  listening  in  the  verandah,  sir.  And 
oh,  but  I've  something  to  tell  you,  if  I  can 
get  it  clear.  I'm  the  boy,  sir,  that  Mr.  Whit- 
more  spoke  about — the  boy  that's  being  searched 

for " 

188 


THE   MOCK-OBANGE   BUSH 

"Look  here/'  Mr.  Kogers  interrupted,  "I'm 
a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  you  know." 

"I  can't  help  it,  sir — begging  your  pardon. 
But  I  was  in  the  house,  and  I  saw  things ;  and  if 
they  catch  me  I  must  tell." 

"Tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil,"  said  Mr. 
Rogers. 

"That's  easy  to  say,  sir.  But  the  more  truth 
I  told  the  worse  it  would  look  for  someone  who's 
innocent." 

"Whitmore?" 

"You  won  that  guinea  off  Mr.  Whitmore, 
didn't  you,  sir  f " 

This  confused  him.  "You've  been  using  your 
ears  to  some  purpose,"  he  growled,  eyeing  me 
suspiciously. 

"Mr.  Whitmore  isn't  the  man  I  meant;  I 
don't  know  yet  how  he  comes  to  be  mixed  up  in 
it.  But  now  listen  to  another  thing.  You  re- 
member that  Mr.  Whitmore  walked  out  after  the 
game — for  fresh  air,  he  said  ?" 

"Well?" 

"And  he  didn't  come  back  ?" 

"Well?" 

"He  stepped  out  because  he  was  whistled  out. 
There  was  a  man  waiting  to  talk  with  him." 
189 


ADVENTURES  OF  HARRY  REVEL 

"What  man  ?" 

"His  name's  Letcher — Sergeant  Letcher;  at 
least " 

"I  don't  know  the  name." 

"He  was  one  of  the  soldiers  on  the  beach  this 
evening." 

"The  devil !"  Mr.  Kogers  jumped  in  his  shoes. 

"But  he  hadn't  come  about  that  business,"  I 
made  haste  to  add. 

"About  what,  then  ?" 

"Well,  now,  sir,  I  must  ask  you  a  question. 
They  were  talking  about  'the  beauty  down  at  the 
cottage.'  Who  would  that  be  ?" 

"That,"  said  he,  slowly,  "would  be  Isabel 
Brooks,  for  a  certainty." 

"And  the  cottage  ?" 

"Kemember  the  one  we  passed  on  the  road  ? — 
the  one  with  the  light  downstairs?  That's  it. 
She  lives  there  with  her  father — an  old  soldier, 
and  three  parts  blind.  Case  of  cataract. 
There's  no  mischief  brewing  against  her,  I 
hope?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  I  went  on,  breathlessly. 
"But,  if  you  please,  go  on  answering  me.  Do 
you  know  a  young  man  called  Plinlimmon — Ar- 

chilbald  Plinlimmon  ?" 

190 


THE    MOCK-ORANGE    BUSH 

"Plinlimmon  ?  Ay,  to  be  sure,  I  do.  Met 
him  there  once — another  soldier,  youngish  and 
good-looking;  private  soldier,  but  seemed  a  gen- 
tleman— didn't  catch  his  Christian  name.  The 
Major  introduced  him  as  the  son  of  an  old 
friend — comrade-in-arms,  he  said,  if  I  remem- 
ber. He  was  then  with  a  black-faced  fellow 
whose  name  I  didn't  catch,  either." 

"That  was  Letcher!" 

"What !  The  man  you  say  Whitmore  was 
talking  with  ?  What  were  they  saying  ?" 

"They  said  something  about  a  christening. 
And  Letcher  asked  Mr.  Whitmore  for  money." 

"A  christening?  What  in  thunder  has  a 
christening  to  do  with  it?" 

"That's  what  I  don't  know,  sir.  I  thought 
you  might  be  able  to  tell  me." 

Mr.  Rogers  looked  at  me  and  rubbed  his  chin. 
"I  meant  to  take  you  to  Lydia,"  he  said,  "but 
now  that  Whitmore's  mixed  up  in  this,  I'll  be 
shot  if  I  do.  That  fellow  has  bewitched  her 

somehow,  and  where  he's  concerned "  He 

glanced  up  the  slope  and  clutched  me  suddenly 
by  the  shoulder — for  Whitmore  himself  was 
there,  walking  alone,  and  coming  straight  tow- 
ard us.  "Talk  of  the  devil — here,  hide,  boy — 
191 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

cluck  down,  I  tell  you,  there  behind  the  bushes ! 
No  ?    Through  the  hedge,  then " 

I  burst  through  the  hedge  and  dropped 
though  a  mat  of  brambles,  dragging  my  rug 
after  me.  The  fall  landed  me  on  all-fours  upon 
the  sunken  high  road,  along  which  I  ran  as  one 
demented — stark  naked,  too — a  small  Jack  of 
Bedlam  under  the  broadening  eye  of  day ;  ran 
past  Miss  Belcher's  entrance  gate  with  its  sen- 
tinel masses  of  tall  laurels,  and  had  reached  the 
bend  of  the  road  opening  the  low  cottage  into 
view,  when  a  sudden  jingling  of  bells  and 
tramp  of  horses  drove  me  aside  through  a  gate 
on  the  left,  to  cower  behind  a  hedge  there  while 
they  passed. 

There  were  two  waggons,  each  drawn  by  six 
horses  and  covered  by  a  huge  white  tilt  bearing 
in  great  letters  the  words,  "Russell  &  Co.,  Fal- 
mouth  to  London."  On  the  front  of  each  a  lan- 
tern shone  pale  against  the  daylight.  At  the 
head  of  each  team  rode  a  waggoner,  mounted  on 
a  separate  horse  and  carrying  a  long  whip.  Be- 
side each  tramped  a  couple  of  soldiers  with  fixed 
bayonets,  and  two  followed  behind;  and  these 
soldiers  wore  the  uniform  of  the  North  Wilts 
Regiment. 

192 


THE    MOCK-ORANGE    BUSH 

I  knew  them  well  enough  by  repute — these 
famous  waggons  conveying  untold  treasure  be- 
tween London  and  the  Falmouth  Packets.  As 
they  passed  I  pushed  warily  forward  and  then 
crept  into  the  road  again,  to  stare  after  them. 

And  with  that,  turning  my  head,  I  was  aware 
of  a  young  lady  outside  the  cottage  door.  But 
if  she  had  come  out  to  gaze  after  the  waggons, 
she  was  gazing  now  at  me.  It  was  too  late  to 
hide,  and,  moreover,  I  had  come  almost  to  the 
end  of  my  powers.  With  a  cry  for  pity  I  ran 
towards  her. 


193 


CHAPTEE   XV 

MINDEN    COTTAGE 

STARK  naked  though  I  was,  she  did  not  flinch 
as  I  came ;  only  her  eyes  seemed  to  widen  upon 
me  in  wonder.  And  for  all  my  desperate  hurry 
I  had  time  to  see,  first,  that  they  were  wiser  and 
graver  than  other  girls'  eyes,  and,  next,  that 
they  were  exceedingly  beautiful. 

In  those  days  I  had  small  learning  (I  have 
little  enough  even  now),  or  I  might  have  fancied 
as  I  came  near  that  some  goddess  stood  awaiting 
me  between  the  night  and  the  dawn.  She  stood, 
tall  and  erect,  in  a  loose  white  wrapper,  the  col- 
lar of  which  had  fallen  open,  revealing  the  bod- 
ice-folds of  her  nightgown — a  cloud,  as  it  were, 
at  the  base  of  her  firm  throat.  Her  feet  were 
thrust  into  loose  slippers,  and  her  hair  hung  low 
on  her  neck  in  dark  masses  as  she  had  knotted 
them  for  the  night. 

"Where  do  you  come  from,  boy  ?"  she  asked ; 
but  an  instant  later  put  the  question  aside  as  an 
194 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

idle  one.  "Someone  has  been  ill-treating  you. 
Come  indoors !" 

She  put  out  a  hand,  and  I  clung  to  it,  sobbing. 
She  led  me  to  the  door,  but  turned  with  her  other 
hand  on  the  latch.  "Is  anyone  following?" 

I  shook  my  head,  for  my  agitation  choked  me. 
She  was  attempting  now,  but  gently,  to  draw 
back  the  hand  to  which  I  clung,  and  in  resisting 
my  fingers  met  and  pulled  against  a  ring — a 
single  ring  of  plain  gold. 

Seeing  that  I  had  observed  it,  she  made  no 
further  effort,  but  let  her  hand  lie,  her  eyes  at 
the  same  moment  meeting  mine  and  searching 
them  gravely  and  curiously. 

"Come  upstairs,"  she  said ;  "but  tread  softly. 
My  father  is  a  light  sleeper." 

She  took  me  to  a  room  in  the  corner  of  which 
stood  a  white  bed  with  the  sheets  neatly  turned 
down,  prepared  and  ready  for  a  guest.  The 
room  was  filled  with  the  scent  of  flowers — fra- 
grant scent  of  roses  and  clean  aromatic  scent  of 
carnations.  There  were  fainter  scents,  too,  of 
jasmine  and  lavender ;  the  first  wafted  in  from  a 
great  bush  beyond  the  open  lattice,  the  second 
(as  I  afterwards  discovered)  exhaled  by  the 
white  linen  of  the  bed.  But  flowers  were  every- 
195 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

where,  in  bowls  and  jars  and  glasses;  and  as 
though  other  receptacles  for  them  had  failed, 
one  long  spray  of  small  roses  climbed  the  dress- 
ing-table from  a  brown  pitcher  at  its  foot. 

She  motioned  me  to  a  chair  beside  the  bed, 
and  almost  before  I  knew  what  was  intended,  she 
had  fetched  a  basin  of  water  and  was  kneeling 
to  wash  my  feet. 

"No — please !"  I  protested. 

"But  I  love  children,"  she  whispered,  "and 
you  are  but  a  child." 

So  I  sat  in  a  kind  of  dream  while  she  washed 
away  the  dust  and  blood,  changing  the  water 
twice,  and  afterward  dried  each  foot  in  a  towel, 
pressing  firmly  but  never  once  hurting  me. 

When  this  was  done,  she  rose  and  stood  mus- 
ing, contemplating  me  seriously,  and  yet — and 
now,  for  the  first  time — with  a  touch  of  mirth  in 
her  eyes. 

"You  are  such  a  little  one/'  she  said,  more 
to  herself  than  to  me.  "Father's  would  never 
fit."  And  having  poured  out  fresh  water,  and 
bidding  me  wash  my  body,  she  stole  out. 

She  returned  with  a  fresh  towel  and  a  white 
garment  in  her  hands,  and  real  mirth  now  in  her 
eyes.  My  toilet  done,  she  slipped  the  garment 
196 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

over  me.  It  fell  to  my  feet  in  long  folds,  yet  so 
lightly  that  I  scarcely  felt  I  was  clothed;  and 
she  clapped  her  hands  in  dumb-show.  It  was 
one  of  her  own  nightgowns. 

I  glanced,  uneasily,  towards  the  bed.  Its 
daintiness  frightened  me,  used  as  I  was  to  the 
housekeeping — coarse  if  clean — of  Mrs.  Trapp. 

"Your  prayers  first,"  she  whispered.  "Don't 
you  know  any  ?"  She  eyed  me  anxiously  again. 
"But  you  are  a  good  boy?  Surely,  you  are  a 
good  boy ;  not  a  milksop,  you  know — that's  quite 
another  thing.  Don't  boys  say  their  prayers  ? 
They  ought  to." 

I  am  afraid  that,  since  passing  out  of  Miss 
Plinlimmon's  tutelage,  I  had  sadly  neglected 
the  habit ;  but  I  knelt  now  beside  the  bed,  obe- 
diently and  in  silence. 

She  stepped  close  beside  me.  "But  you're 
not  speaking,"  she  murmured.  "Father  always 
says  his  aloud,  and  so  do  I.  You  mustn't  pre- 
tend, if  you  don't  really  know  any.  I  can  teach 
you." 

She  knelt  down  beside  me,  and  began  to  say 
the  Lord's  Prayer  softly.     I  repeated  it  after 
her,  sentence  by  sentence;  and  this  was  really 
shamming,  for,  of  course,  I  knew  it  perfectly. 
197 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAEKY    REVEL 

At  the  time  I  felt  only  that  she — this  beauti- 
ful creature  beside  me — was  in  a  strange  state  of 
exaltation  which  I  could  not  in  the  least  under- 
stand. I  know  now  something  of  the  springs  I 
had  touched  and  loosened  within  her — I,  a 
naked  waif,  coming  to  her  out  of  the  night  and 
catching  her  hand  for  protection,  at  that  hour. 
It  was  not  I  she  taught,  nor  over  me  that  she 
yearned.  She  was  reaching  through  me  to  a 
child  unknown,  using  me  to  press  against  a 
strange  love  tearing  at  the  roots  of  her  body,  and 
to  break  the  pain  of  it — the  roots  of  her  body,  I 
say,  for  he  who  can  separate  a  woman  soul  from 
her  body  is  a  wiser  man  than  I. 

She  arose  from  her  knees  and  confronted  me 
with  bright  eyes  and  a  lovely  blush,  born  of  soft 
maternal  secrets,  threw  back  the  sheets  and 
tucked  them  about  me  as  I  snuggled  down. 

"What  is  your  name  ?" 

"Harry — Harry  Revel.  Are  you  Miss  Isabel 
Brooks  ?" 

"I  am  Isabel." 

"Why  were  you  crying  out  there  in  the  road  ?" 

"Was  I  crying  ?" 

"Well,  not  crying,  exactly ;  but  you  looked  as 

if  you  wanted  to." 

198 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

She  smiled.  "You  have  cheered  me,  you 
see."  But  her  eyes  were  moist.  "We  both  have 
our  secrets,  it  seems,  and  you  shall  tell  me  yours 
to-morrow.  Will  yours  let  you  sleep?" 

"I  think  so,  Miss  Isabel.  I  am  so  tired — and 

so  clean — and  this  bed  is  so  soft "  I 

stretched  out  my  arms  luxuriously,  and  almost 
before  I  knew  it  she  was  bending  to  kiss  me,  and 
they  were  about  her  neck.  Her  hair  fell  over  me 
in  a  shower,  and  in  the  shade  of  it  she  laughed 
happily,  kissing  me  by  the  ear,  and  whispering : 

"I  have  my  happy  secret,  too !" 

She  straightened  herself  up,  tossed  back  the 
dark  locks  with  a  shake  of  the  head,  and  moved 
to  the  door. 

"Good-night,  and  God  bless  you,  Harry 
Kevel!" 

A  bird  was  cheeping  in  the  jasmine  bush 
when  I  dropped  asleep,  and  when  I  awoke  he 
was  cheeping  there  still.  Of  my  dreams  I  only 
remember  that  they  ended  in  a  vague  sense  of 
discomfort,  somehow  arising  from  a  vision  of 
Mr.  Rogers  in  the  act  of  throwing  bread  at 
the  swans  and  of  the  hen-bird's  flurry  as  she 
paddled  away.  But  the  sound  which  I  took  for 
199 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

the  splashing  of  water  came  in  fact  from  the 
rings  of  the  window  curtain,  which  Miss  Isabel 
was  drawing  to  shut  out  the  high  morning  sun. 

She  was  dressed  now  in  a  plain  print  frock, 
with  her  dusky  hair  braided — yet  not  so  as  to 
conceal  its  wealth ;  and  no  rose  could  have  looked 
fresher.  Do  you  know  that  one  they  call  the 
rose  of  Devon — stately,  very  dark  of  leaf,  excel- 
lently fragrant,  which  contrives  to  be  white,  and 
yet  you  cannot  call  it  fair — a  gypsy-queen 
among  roses  ?  It  has  a  warm  tint,  too,  which  is 
not  of  the  surface,  but  seems  to  be  wrapped  with- 
in every  petal — too  deep  for  a  bloom,  too  sombre 
for  a  flush.  And  it  is  my  favourite  among 
roses,  among  all  flowers;  for  I  never  meet  it 
but  it  speaks  to  me  of  Isabel. 

She  heard  me  stir  and  faced  about,  with  her 
hand  yet  on  the  curtain.  "Awake  ?"  she  cried, 
and  laughed — a  gayer  creature  altogether — 
while  I  stared,  puzzled  for  the  moment  to  think 
where  this  room  could  be,  and  how  I  came  in  it. 

"You  shall  have  a  basin  of  bread  and  milk, 
presently,  and  after  that  you  may  get  up  and  put 
on  these."  She  held  out  a  suit  of  clothes  which 
lay  across  her  arm.  "I  have  borrowed  them 
from  Miss  Belcher,  who  distributes  all  sorts  of 
200 


MINDED    COTTAGE 

garments  at  Christmas  among  the  youngsters 
hereabouts,  and  has  rummaged  this  out  of  her 
stock.  And  after  that — I  have  told  my  father 
about  you,  and  he  will  be  glad  to  make  your  ac- 
quaintance. We  shall  find  him  in  the  garden. 
And  now  I  must  go  and  see  to  preparing  dinner ; 
for  it  is  past  noon,  though  you  may  not  know  it, 
and  we  keep  no  servant." 

"They  must  surely  keep  a  gardener/'  thought 
I,  half  an  hour  later,  when — clad  in  a  blue 
jacket  very  tight  at  the  elbows  and  corduroy 
breeches  very  tight  at  the  knees  and  warm  for 
the  time  of  year — I  descended  with  Isabel  into 
the  walled  garden  at  the  back  of  the  cottage.  Its 
whole  area  cannot  have  been  half  an  acre,  and 
even  so  the  half  of  it  was  taken  up  by  a  plot  of 
turf,  smooth  as  a  bowling  green ;  but  beyond  this 
stretched  a  miniature  orchard,  and  clean  around 
the  walls  ran  a  deep  border  crowded  with  mid- 
summer flowers — tall  white  lilies  and  Canter- 
bury bells,  stocks,  sweet-williams,  mignonette, 
candytuft,  and  larkspurs ;  bushes  of  lemon  ver- 
bena, myrtle,  and  the  white  everlasting  pea. 
Near  the  house  all  was  kept  in  nicest  order,  with 
trim  ranks  of  standard  roses  marching  level  with 
the  turfed  verges,  and  tall  carnations  staked  and 
201 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAKRY    REVEL 

bending  towards  them  across  the  alley;  but 
around  the  orchard  all  grew  riotous,  and  the  or- 
chard itself  ended  in  a  maze  of  currant  bushes, 
through  which  the  path  seemed  to  wander  after 
the  sound  of  running  water  till  it  emerged  upon 
another  clearing  of  turf,  with  a  tall  filbert  tree 
and  a  summer-house  beneath  it,  and  a  row  of 
bee-hives  set  beside  a  stream.  The  stream,  I  af- 
terwards learned,  came  down  from  Miss  Belch- 
er's park — from  the  lake,  in  fact,  where  Mr. 
Rogers  and  I  had  fed  the  swans — and  was  the 
real  boundary  of  the  garden ;  but  Miss  Belcher 
had  allowed  the  Major  to  build  a  wall  for  pri- 
vacy on  the  far  side  of  it,  yet  not  so  high  as  to 
shut  off  the  sun  from  his  bee-skeps;  and  had 
granted  him  a  private  entrance  through  it  to 
the  park — a  narrow  wooden  door  approached  by 
a  miniature  bridge  across  the  stream. 

"Papa  !"  called  Isabel,  as  we  reached  the  edge 
of  this  small  clearing. 

I  heard  a  movement  in  the  summer-house,  and 
her  father  appeared  in  the  doorway.  He  was 
old,  but  held  himself  so  erect  that  his  head  al- 
most touched  the  lintel  of  the  summer-house 
door,  the  posts  of  which  he  gripped,  and  so  stood 
framed,  a  giant  of  close  upon  six  and  a  half  feet 
202 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

in  stature.  He  wore  a  brown  holland  coat  of  an- 
tique cut,  very  full  in  the  skirts,  with  waistcoat 
and  breeches  of  the  same,  black  stockings,  and 
square-toed  shoes ;  and  at  first  I  mistook  him  for 
a  Quaker.  His  snow-white  hair,  long  and  plen- 
tiful, was  gathered  back  from  his  temples,  giv- 
ing salience  to  a  face  of  ineffable  simplicity  and 
goodness — the  face  of  a  man  at  peace  with  God 
and  all  the  world,  yet  touched  about  the  clean- 
shaven chin  with  lines  in  which  an  older  ob- 
server might  have  read  the  scars  of  by-gone  pas- 
sions, healed  but  not  obliterated. 

"Papa,"  said  Isabel,  "this  is  Harry  Kevel." 

Still  holding  by  the  door-posts  he  bowed  with 
ceremony,  a  little  wide  of  me.  I  saw  then  that 
his  eyes  were  sightless. 

"I  am  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance, 
young  sir.  My  daughter  informs  me  that  you 
are  in  trouble." 

"He  has  promised  to  tell  me  all  about  it,"  Isa- 
bel put  in.  "We  need  not  bother  him  with  ques- 
tions just  now." 

"Assuredly  not,"  he  agreed.     "Well,  if  you 

will,  my  lad,  tell  it  to  Isabel.    What  is  your  age  ? 

Barely  fourteen  ?    Troubles  at  that  age  are  not 

often  incurable.     Only,  whatever  you  do — and 

203 


ADVENTUEES    OF    HAEEY    EEVEL 

you  will  pardon  an  old  man  for  suggesting  it — 
tell  the  whole  truth.  When  a  man,  though  he 
be  much  older  than  you  and  his  case  more  seri- 
ous than  yours  can  possibly  be — when  a  man 
once  brings  himself  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it, 
the  odds  are  on  his  salvation.  Take  my  word  for 
that,  and  a  wiser  man's — by  the  way,  do  you  un- 
derstand Latin  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  it  But  perhaps  you  play 
the  drum  ?" 

"I — I  have  never  tried,  sir." 

"Dear,  dear,  this  is  unfortunate ;  but  at  least 
you  can  serve  me  by  leading  me  around  the  gar- 
den and  telling  me  where  the  several  flowers 
grow,  and  how  they  come  on.  That  will  be  some- 
thing." His  brow  cleared  and  he  spoke  more 
cheerfully. 

"I  will  try,  sir ;  but  indeed  I  can  hardly  tell 
one  flower  from  another." 

At  this  his  face  fell  again.  "Do  you,  by 
chance,  know  a  bee  when  you  see  one  ?" 

"A  bee  ?    Oh,  yes,  sir." 

"Come,  we  have  touched  bottom  at  length ! 
Do  you  understand  bees?  Can  you  handle 
them?" 

204 


MINHEff    COTTAGE 

Here  Isabel,  seeing  my  chap-fallen  face,  in- 
terposed : 

"And  if  he  does  not,  papa,  you  will  have  the 
pleasure  of  teaching  him." 

"Very  true,  my  dear.  You  must  excuse  me" 
— here  Major  Brooks  turned  as  if  seeing  me 
with  his  sightless  eyes.  "They  say  that  blind- 
ness makes  men  patient,  but  I  do  not  find  it  so." 
He  smiled.  "It  serves  me  right,  after  encour- 
aging you  to  confession,  to  be  dished  in  my  own 
sauce,  eh  ?  But  understand  that  I  like  you  far 
better  for  owning  up.  There  are  men — there 
is  a  clergyman  in  our  neighbourhood  for  one — 
capable  of  pretending  a  knowledge  of  Latin 
which  they  don't  possess." 

"Doesn't  Mr.  Whitmore  know  Latin?"  I 
asked. 

"Hey?  Who  told  you  I  was  speaking  of 
Whitmore  ?" 

I  glanced  at  Isabel,  for  her  eyes  drew  me. 
They  were  fixed  on  me  almost  in  terror. 

"I  have  heard  him  talk  it,  sir." 

"Excuse  me;  you  may  have  heard  him  pre- 
tending." 

"But,  papa "  Isabel  put  forth  a  hand  as 

if  in  protest ;  and  I  noted  that  it  trembled  and 
205 


ADVENTURES    OE   HARRY   EEVEL 

that  the  ring  was  missing  which  she  had  worn 
overnight.  "You  never  told  me  that  he — that 
Mr.  Whitmore " 

"Was  an  impostor  ?  My  dear,  had  you  any 
occasion  to  seek  my  opinion  of  him,  or  had  I  any 
occasion  to  give  it  ?  None,  I  think ;  and  but  for 
Master  Revel's  incomprehensible  guess  you  had 
not  discovered  it  now.  I  have  been  betrayed 
into  gossip." 

He  turned  abruptly  and  feeling  with  his  hand 
over  the  surface  of  the  summer-house  table, 
found  and  picked  up  a  small  volume  lying  there. 
It  struck  me  that  his  temper  for  the  moment  was 
not  under  perfect  control. 

Isabel  cast  at  me  a  look  which  I  could  not  in- 
terpret and  went  slowly  back  to  the  house. 

"The  meaning  of  my  catechism  just  now," 
said  her  father,  addressing  me  after  listening 
for  a  while  to  her  retreating  footsteps,  "may  be 
the  plainer  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  translat- 
ing the  works  of  the  Roman  poet  Virgil,  line  for 
line,  into  English  verse,  and  have  just  reached 
the  beginning  of  the  Fourth  Georgic.  He  is,  I 
may  tell  you,  a  poet,  and  the  most  marvellous 
that  ever  lived ;  so  marvellous  that  the  Middle 
Ages  mistook  him  for  a  magician.  That  any  age 
206 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

is  likely  to  mistake  me,  his  translator,  for  one  I 
think  improbable.  Nevertheless  I  do  my  best. 
And  while  translating  I  hold  this  book  in  my 
hand,  not  that  I  can  see  to  read  a  line  of  it,  but 
because  the  mere  touch  of  it,  my  companion  on 
many  campaigns,  seems  to  unloose  my  memory. 
Except  in  handling  this  small  volume  I  have 
none  of  the  delicate  gift  of  divination  by  touch 
with  which  blind  men  are  usually  credited. 
But  this  is  page  one  hundred  and  six,  is  it  not  ? 
He  held  out  the  open  book  towards  me,  and 
added,  with  sudden  apprehension,  "You  can 
read,  I  trust  ?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  could. 

"And  write?  Good  again!  Come  in — you 
will  find  pen,  ink  and  paper  on  the  side-drum 
in  the  corner.  Bring  them  over  to  the  table  and 
seat  yourself.  Eeady.  Now,  begin,  and  let  me 
know  when  you  cannot  spell  a  word.  Twenty 
lines  a  day  is  my  average,  but  I  have  improved 
on  it  this  morning — a  usual  experience  when  I 
start  upon  a  fresh  poem." 

I  seated  myself,  silently  wondering  what 
might  be  the  use  of  the  side-drum  in  the  corner. 

"Let  me  see — let  me  see "  He  thumbed 

the  book  for  a  while,  murmuring  words  which  I 
207 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

could  not  catch ;  then  thrust  it  behind  his  back 
with  a  finger  between  its  pages,  straightened 
himself  up,  and  declaimed: 

"  Next  of  aerial  honey,  gift  divine, 
I  sing.     Maecenas,  be  once  more  benign  !  " 

He  paused  and  instructed  me  how  to  spell 
"aerial"  and  "Maecenas."  The  orthography  of 
these  having  been  settled,  I  asked  his  advice 
upon  "benign,"  which,  as  written  down  by  me 
(I  forget  how),  did  not  seem  convincing. 

"You  are  indisputably  an  honest  boy,"  said 
he ;  "but  I  have  yet  to  acquire  that  degree  of  pa- 
tience which,  by  all  accounts,  consorts  with  my 
affliction.  Continue,  pray: 

"  Prepare  the  pomp  of  trifles  to  behold  : 
Proud  peers— a  nation's  polity  unroll'd — 
Customs,  pursuits — its  clans,  and  how  they  fight 
Slight  things  I  labour ;  not  for  glory  slight, 
If  Heaven  attend  and  Phoebus  hearken  me 

First  then,  for  site.     Seek  and  install  your  Bee— 

With  a  capital  B,  if  you  please.  The  poet  says, 
'bees';  but  the  singular,  especially  if  written 
with  a  capital,  adds,  in  my  opinion,  that  mock- 
heroic  touch  which,  as  the  translator  must  fre- 
quently miss  it  for  all  his  pains,  he  had  better  in- 
208 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

sert  where  he  can.    By  the  way,  how  have  you 
spelt  'Phoebus'  ?" 

"F-e-b-u-s,"  I  answered. 

"I  feared  so,"  he  sighed.    "And  'site'  3" 

aS-i-g-h-t."     I  felt  pretty  sure  about  this. 

He  smote  his  forehead. 

"That  is  how  Miss  Plinlimmon  taught  me,"  I 
urged,  almost  defiantly. 

"I  beg  your  pardon — 'Plinlimmon/  did  you 
say  ?  An  unusual  name.  Do  you  indeed  know  a 
Miss  Plinlimmon  ?" 

"It  is  the  name  of  my  dearest  friend,  sir." 

"Most  singular !  You  cannot  tell  me,  I  dare 
say,  if  she  happens  to  be  related  to  my  old  friend, 
Arthur  Plinlimmon  ?" 

"She  is  his  sister." 

"This  is  most  interesting.  I  remember  her, 
then,  as  a  girl.  You  must  know  that  Arthur 
Plinlimmon  and  I  were  comrades  in  the  old 
Fourth  Eegiment,  and  dear  friends — are  dear 
friends  yet,  I  trust,  although  time  and  circum- 
stances have  separated  us.  His  sister  used  to 
keep  house  for  him  before  his  marriage.  A  most 
estimable  person!  And  pray,  where  did  you 
make  her  acquaintance?" 

"In  the  hospital,  sir." 
209 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"The  hospital  ?  Not  an  eleemosynary  institu- 
tion, I  hope  ?" 

I  did  not  know  what  this  meant.  "It's  a 
place  for  foundlings,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"But,  excuse  me,  Miss  Plinlimmon — 
Agatha  ?  Arabella  ?  I  forget  for  the  moment 
her  Christian  name " 

"Agatha,  sir." 

"To  be  sure,  Agatha.  It  signifies  good- 
ness." 

"Then  it's  the  right  name  for  her !"  I  cried. 

"No  doubt,  my  lad ;  and  I  admire  your  enthu- 
siasm. Still,  it  puzzles  me  to  guess  how  she  can 
describe  herself,  or  be  described,  as  a  found- 
ling." 

"Oh,  no,  sir ;  she  is  the  matron  there." 

"I  see.  And  where  is  this  hospital,  as  you 
call  it?" 

"At  Plymouth  Dock." 

"Hey  ?" 

"At  Plymouth  Dock.  A  Mr.  Scougall  keeps 
it — a  sort  of  clergyman." 

"This  is  most  strange.     My  friend  Arthur's 
son,  young  Archibald  Plinlimmon,  is  quartered 
with  his  regiment  there — the  North  Wilts — and 
often  pays  us  a  visit,  poor  lad." 
210 


MINDEN    COTTAGE 

"Indeed,  sir  ?" 

"His  circumstances  are  not  prosperous.  Fam- 
ily troubles — money  losses,  you  understand — 
and  then  his  father  made  an  imprudent  mar- 
riage. Not  that  anything  can  be  said  against 
the  Leicesters — there  are  few  better  families. 
But  the  lady,  I  imagine,  did  not  take  kindly  to 
poverty ;  never  learnt  to  cut  her  coat  according 
to  the  cloth.  Her  uncle  might  have  helped  her 
— Sir  Charles,  that  is — the  head  of  the  family 
— a  childless  man  with  plenty  of  money;  for 
some  reason,  however,  he  had  opposed  her 
match  with  Arthur.  A  sad  story!  And  now, 
when  their  lad  is  grown  and  the  time  come  for 
him  to  be  a  soldier,  he  must  start  in  the  ranks. 
But  why  in  the  world,  if  she  lives  at  Plymouth 
Dock,  has  Archibald  never  mentioned  his  aunt 
to  us ?" 

This  was  more  than  I  could  tell  him.  And 
you  may  be  sure  that  the  name  Leicester  made 
me  want  to  ask  questions,  not  to  answer  them. 
But  just  now  Isabel  came  across  the  lawn  bear- 
ing a  tray  with  a  plateful  of  biscuits,  a  decanter 
of  claret,  and  a  glass. 

"My  dear,"  asked  her  father,  "has.  our  friend 
Archibald  ever  spoken  to  you  of  an  aunt  of  his 
211 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

— a  Miss  Agatha  Plinlimmon — residing  at 
Plymouth  Dock?" 

"No,  papa.7'  She  turned  on  me,  again  with 
that  fear  and  appeal  in  her  eyes,  as  if  in  some 
way  I  was  persecuting  her,  and  the  decanter 
shook  and  tinkled  on  the  rim  of  the  glass  as  she 
poured  out  the  claret. 

The  old  man  lifted  the  wine,  sipped  it,  and 
held  it  between  his  sightless  eyes  and  the  sun- 
shine. 

"A  sad  story,"  he  mused,  "but,  after  all,  the 
lad  is  young  and  the  world  young  for  him.  Re- 
joice in  your  youth,  Mr.  Revel,  and  honour  your 
Creator  in  the  days  of  it.  For  me,  I  enjoyed  it 
by  God's  grace,  and  it  has  not  forsaken  me ;  no, 
not  when  darkness  overtook  and  shut  me  out  of 
the  profession  I  loved.  I  cannot  see  the  colour 
of  this  wine,  nor  the  face  of  this  my  daughter, 
nor  my  garden,  yonder,  full  of  flowers 

"  Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  even  or  morn, 
Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer's  rose, 
Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine 

Yet   memory  returns  and  consoles  my  blind- 
ness.   The  colour  of  the  wine  is  there,  the  flow- 
212 


MINDEN"    COTTAGE 

ers  are  about  me,  and  Isabel — I  am  told — re- 
sembles her  mother.  Yes,  and  away,  on  the 
edge  of  Spain,  the  army  I  served  is  planting 
fresh  laurels — my  old  regiment,  too,  the  King's 
Own,  though  James  Brooks  is  by  this  time 
scarcely  a  name  in  it.  Here  I  sit,  hale  in  wind 
anl  limb,  and  old  age  creeps  on  me  kindly,  tell- 
ing me  that  no  man  is  necessary.  And  yet,  if 
God  should  come  and  lay  a  command  on  me — 
some  task  that  a  blind  man  might  undertake — 
I  am  at  God's  service.  I  sit  with  loins  girt  and 
my  soul,  I  hope,  shriven.  That  is  my  sermon 
to  you,  young  sir — a  clean  breast  and  no  bag- 
gage. Welcome  to  Minden  Cottage!"  He 
drank  to  me. 

"Is  it  named  from  the  battle  of  Minden,  sir  ?" 
I  asked. 

"It  is,  my  lad." 

"Were  you  there  ?" 

He  laughed.  "I  am  not  so  old  as  all  that. 
My  father  won  his  captaincy  there  in  a  regiment 
that  mistook  orders,  charged  three  lines  of  cav- 
alry, and  broke  them  one  after  another.  It  also 
broke  a  sound  maxim  of  war  by  charging  flank- 
ing batteries.  The  British  Army  has  made  half 
its  reputation  by  mistaking  orders — you  will  un- 
213 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

derstand  why  if  ever  you  have  the  honour  to  be- 
long to  it.     Isabel,  get  me  my  drum." 

She  fetched  it  from  its  corner,  with  the  drum- 
sticks, hitched  the  sling  over  her  beautiful  neck, 
tightened  the  straps  carefully,  and  began  to  play 
a  soft  tattoo. 

The  old  man  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  felt  in 
his  pocket,  and  having  found  a  silk  bandanna 
handkerchief,  unfolded  it  deliberately,  cast  it 
over  his  head,  and  composed  himself  to  slumber. 

The  tattoo  ran  on,  peaceful  as  a  brook.  Isa- 
bel's arms  hung  lax  and  motionless;  only  her 
hands  stirred  from  the  wrists,  and  so  slightly,  or 
else  so  rapidly  without  effort,  that  they,  too, 
scarcely  seemed  to  move.  Her  eyes  were  averted. 

My  ear  could  not  separate  the  short  taps. 
They  ran  on  and  on  in  a  murmur  as  of  bees  or 
of  leaves  rustling  together  in  a  wood ;  grew  im- 
perceptibly gentler,  and  almost  imperceptibly 
ceased.  Isabel  glanced  at  her  father,  then  at 
me,  and  set  the  drum  back  in  its  corner.  We 
stole  out  of  the  summer-house  together,  and 
across  to  the  orchard. 

But  under  the  shade  of  the  apple-boughs  she 
turned  (as  I  knew  she  would)  and  faced  me. 

"Boy,  what  do  you  know  ?" 
214 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MR.  JACK  ROGERS  AS  A  MAN  OF  AFFAIRS 

"I  KNOW,"  said  I,  meeting  her  gaze  sturdily, 
"that  you  are  in  danger." 

"How  should  I  be  in  danger  ?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you,  Miss  Isabel,  unless 
first  you  tell  me  something." 

She  waited,  her  eyes  searching  mine. 

"Last  night,"  I  went  on, — "in  the  road — you 
were  expecting  someone." 

Her  chin  went  up  proudly,  but  a  tide  of  red 
rose  with  it,  flushing  her  throat,  and  so  creeping 
up  and  colouring  her  face,  while  her  look  turned 
to  defiance. 

"Were    you    expecting    Archibald    Plinlim- 

Q}% 

mon  r 

She  put  up  a  hand  as  if  to  push  me  aside  dis- 
dainfully, but  on  a  sudden  turned  away  with  a 
sob  and  hastened  from  me,  with  bowed  head, 
toward  the  cottage. 

"Miss  Isabel!"  I  cried,  following  her  close. 
215 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"I  meant  no  harm ;  you  have  been  good  to  me — 
how  could  I  mean  you  harm  ?  Miss  Isabel !" 

She  paid  no  heed.  And  yet  I  would  not  let 
her  go,  but  followed  her  to  the  door,  entreating, 
even  pushed  after  her  into  the  small  kitchen, 
where  at  last  she  faced  round  on  me. 

"Why  cannot  you  let  me  alone,  boy  ?  Into 
what  have  you  come  here  to  pry  ?  You  are  odi- 
ous— yes,  odious !"  She  stamped  her  foot  pas- 
sionately. "And  I  thought,  last  night,  that  you 
were  in  trouble.  Was  I  not  kind  to  you  for  that, 

and  that  only?  What  have  I  done "  she 

broke  off  pitifully.  "Oh,  Harry,  I  am  dread- 
fully unhappy !" 

She  sank  into  a  chair  beside  the  white  deal 
table,  across  which  she  flung  an  arm  and  so 
leaned  her  brow  upon  it  and  let  the  sobs  shake 
her. 

I  went  to  her  and,  kneeling,  took  the  hand 
which  lay  limply  at  her  side. 

"And  I  am  here  to  help  you,  Miss  Isabel. 
Yes,  surely,  I  could  help;  only  so  much  is 
puzzling  me.  Last  night  you  said  you  had  a 
secret,  and  that  it  was  a  happy  one.  To-day 
you  are  crying,  and  it  is  miserable  to  see." 

"And  why  should  I  not  be  happy?"  she 
216 


MR.    JACK   ROGERS 

asked,  raising  her  head  as  my  fingers  closed  on 
hers.  She  lifted  her  other  hand  to  the  bosom 
of  her  bodice,  and  a  moment  later  gently  dis- 
engaged my  clasp  and  slipped  over  her  third 
finger  the  ring  she  had  worn  overnight. 

"Why  should  I  not  be  expecting  him  ?"  she 
murmured. 

For  the  moment  I  was  slow  in  understanding. 
But  I  suppose  that  at  length  she  saw  that  in 
my  eyes  which  satisfied  her,  for  she  drew  down 
my  head  to  her  lap,  and  sat  laughing  and  weep- 
ing together,  but  very  softly. 

A  kettle  hanging  from  a  crook  in  the  chim- 
ney-piece boiled  over,  hissing  down  upon  the 
hot  wood  ashes.  She  sprang  up,  lifted  it  down 
to  the  hearth  and  faced  me  again,  shamefaced, 
and  adorably  confused. 

"Oh,  and  I  forgot !"  Her  hand  went  to  her 
bodice  again.  "Mr.  Jack  Rogers  was  here  this 
morning  inquiring  for  you.  He  drove  up  in  his 
tilbury,  and  said  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Plymouth ;  but  he  left  this  note  for  you." 

I  took  it,  warm  from  her  body,  and  deciphered 
these  words,  scrawled  in  an  abominable  hand : 

"Meet  me  to-night,  nine  o'clock)  at  the  place 
where  we  parted.    Most  important.    J.  R." 
217 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

"Was  Mr.  Rogers  going  to  Plymouth?"  I 
asked. 

"Yes,  and  in  a  hurry,  by  the  pace  he  was 
driving." 

As  you  may  guess,  this  news  disconcerted  me 
not  a  little.  Could  Mr.  Rogers  be  preparing  a 
trap  ?  No,  certainly  not  for  me.  Whitmore,  if 
anyone,  was  his  quarry.  But  I  mistrusted  that, 
if  he  once  started  this  game,  it  would  lead  him 
on  to  another  scent.  I  had  little  reason  to  be 
confident  in  Archibald  Plinlimmon — I  remem- 
bered the  episode  of  Miss  Plinlimmon's  purse — 
and  my  heart  was  sore  for  Isabel.  But  I  had 
now  more  reason  than  ever  for  hiding  what  I 
knew.  That  he  was  innocent  of  the  Jew's  mur- 
der I  felt  sure.  Still,  what  had  he  been  seeking 
on  the  roof,  by  the  Jew's  house  ?  It  would  be  an 
ugly  discovery,  if  Mr.  Rogers  blundered  on  it, 
and  in  the  way  of  honest  blundering  I  felt  Mr. 
Rogers  to  be  infinitely  capable.  If  only,  trust- 
ing in  his  good-nature,  I  had  made  a  clean 
breast  of  it !  As  it  was  I  had  let  loose  a  blind 
shaft  to  strike  perhaps  on  Archibald  Plinlim- 
mon, and,  through  him,  the  heart  of  Isabel. 

A  clean  breast  ?  She  too,  poor  girl,  was  ach- 
ing to  make  confession  to  her  father,  and  know 
218 


ME.    JACK   EOGEKS 

the  worst  of  his  wrath.  For  weeks  her  secret 
had  been  a  sword  within  her,  wearing  the  flesh, 
and  it  eased  her  somewhat  (as  I  saw)  even  to 
have  made  confession  to  me.  But  she  would  not 
speak  to  her  father  without  first  consulting 
Archibald.  It  was  he;  I  gathered,  who  had  en- 
forced silence.  Major  Brooks  (and  small  blame 
to  him)  would  assuredly  have  imposed  a  proba- 
tion ;  old  men  with  lovely  daughters  do  not  sur- 
render them  at  call  to  penniless  youths  even 
when  the  penniless  youth  happens  to  be  the  son 
of  an  old  friend.  In  my  heart  I  sent  Master 
Archibald  to  perdition  for  a  selfish  fool. 

I  talked  long  with  Isabel,  first  in  the  kitchen, 
and  again  on  our  way  back  to  the  summer-house, 
where  her  father  sat  awake  and  expecting  me, 
book  in  hand. 

There  she  left  me,  and  he  began  to  dictate  at 
once  as  I  settled  myself  to  write : 

"  First,  then,  for  site— Seek,  and  install  your  Bee       T 
Where  nor  may  winds  intrude  (for  winds  forhid 
His  homeward  load)  :  nor  sheep,  nor  headstrong  kid 
Trample  the  flowers  ;  nor  vagrant  heifer  pass, 
Brush  off  the  dew  and  bruise  the  budding  grass  ; 
Nor  lizard  foe  in  painted  armour  prowl 
Round  the  rich  hive.     Bee— bird,  yea,  every  fowl 
219 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

Be  banned,  with  Procne  of  the  bloodied  breast. 
For  these  waste  all — our  hero  with  the  rest, 
Snapped  on  the  wing  and  haled,  a  tit-bit,  to  the  nest. 
But  welling  springs  and  spongy  moss  supply 
And  through  the  grass  a  streamlet  fleeting  by " 

So  much,  with  interminable  pauses,  we  accom- 
plished before  the  light  waned  in  the  summer- 
house  and  Isabel  called  us  in  to  supper,  which 
we  ate  together  in  a  low-ceiled  parlour  overlook- 
ing the  garden.  At  a  quarter  to  nine,  on  pre- 
tence that  I  had  still  to  make  up  arrears  of 
sleep,  she  signed  to  me  to  wish  her  father  good- 
night and  escorted  me  out  into  the  passage.  A 
slip  of  the  bolt  and  I  was  free  of  the  road  and 
the  night,  to  seek  and  learn  the  best,  or  the 
worst,  Mr.  Rogers  might  have  to  tell. 

I  found  the  spot  where  I  had  dropped  into  the 
road  and  cautiously  mounted  the  hedge,  putting 
the  brambles  aside  and  passing  through  them  in 
the  fast-falling  twilight.  A  low  whistle  sounded, 
and  Mr.  Rogers — I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognis- 
ing him — stepped  into  view  on  the  foot-bridge. 
But  he  left  a  companion  behind  him  in  the 
shadow  of  the  alders,  and  who  this  might  be  I 
could  not  see  or  guess. 

"Is  that  you,  Master  Revel  ?"  he  whispered, 

hoarsely. 

220 


MR.    JACK   ROGERS 

There  was  no  help  for  it  now;  so  over  the 
hedge  I  climbed  and  met  him. 

"How  did  you  find  out " 

"Your  name  ?  Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Miss 
Brooks  told  me  this  morning.  But,  for  that 
matter,  it's  placarded  all  over  Plymouth  and  at 
every  public  and  forge  and  sign-post  along  the 
road.  You're  a  notorious  character,  my  son." 

I  began  to  quake. 

"Parson,"  he  went  on,  turning  and  address- 
ing the  figure  in  the  shadow,  "here's  the  boy, 
Better  make  haste  if  you  have  any  questions  to 
ask  him  before  we  get  to  business." 

There  stepped  forward,  not  Mr.  Whitmore 
(as  I  was  fearfully  expecting),  but  a  figure  un- 
known to  me — an  old  shovel-hatted  man  lean- 
ing on  a  stick,  and  buttoned  to  the  chin  in  a 
black  Inverness  cape.  I  felt  his  eyes  peering 
at  me  through  the  dusk. 

"He  seems  very  young  to  be  a  trustworthy 
witness,"  croaked  this  old  gentleman  in  a  voice 
which  seemed  to  be  affected  by  the  night  air. 

"He's  right  enough,"  Mr.  Eogers  answered 
cheerfully. 

"He  shall  tell  his  tale,  then,  in  Mr.  Whit- 
221 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

more's  presence.  I  will  not  yet  believe  that  a 
gentleman  and  a  minister  of  Christ's  religion, 
whose  papers — as  I  have  proved  to  you — are  in 
order,  whose  testimonials  are  unexceptionable, 
who  has  the  Bishop's  licence " 

"The  Bishop's  fiddlestick!  Whitmore  shall 
explain  how  he  manufactured  it.  The  Bishop 
didn't  license  him  to  carry  marked  guineas  in  his 
pocket,  and  I  don't  wait  for  a  licence  to  carry  a 
warrant  in  mine." 

"You  will  at  least  afford  him  an  opportunity 
of  explaining  before  you  execute  it.  For,  to  be 
plain  with  you,  Mr.  Eogers,  this  business  is  like 
to  be  scandalous  however  you  look  at  it ;  scandal- 
ous for  many,  if  true,  and  scandalous  for  me  if 
it  turn  out  that  we  make  this  descent,  trusting 
to  the  evidence  of  a  child,  and  find  our  suspi- 
cions baseless." 

"The  constables  shall  remain  outside,  and  the 
warrant  I'll  keep  in  my  pocket  until  your  rever- 
ence's doubts  are  at  rest."  Mr.  Eogers  gave  an- 
other low  whistle,  and  two  men,  hitherto  con- 
cealed at  a  little  distance  in  the  trees'  shadow, 
stepped  silently  forward  and  joined  us. 
"Ready,  lads  ?  Quick  march,  then !" 
222 


MR.    JACK   ROGERS 

We  took  the  path  up  the  valley  bottom,  Mr. 
Rogers  leading,  the  old  clergyman  and  I  close 
behind  him;  the  two  constables  bringing  up  the 
rear.  The  path  for  a  while  kept  alongside  the 
stream  and  parallel  with  the  hedge  of  the  high 
road,  but  by-and-by  trended  to  the  left  and 
parted  into  two  branches,  the  upper  of  which 
Mr.  Rogers  chose.  It  led  us  uphill  and  across 
a  grassy  shoulder  of  the  park  to  a  small  gate  in 
the  ring-fence.  Beyond  this  gate  a  lane,  or  cart- 
road,  dipped  steeply  down  hill  to  the  right; 
and,  following  it,  we  came  on  a  high  stone  wall 
overtopped  by  trees. 

"Here's  your  post,  Hodgson/'  whispered  Mr. 
Rogers,  after  waiting  for  the  constables  to  come 
up.  "You're  to  mount  guard  here,  while  Jim 
takes  the  back  of  the  house;  and,  understand, 
that  no  one  is  to  enter  or  to  leave.  If  anyone 
attempts  it,  signal  to  me ;  one  whistle  from  you, 
Hodgson,  and  two  from  Jim.  Off  you  go,  my 
lad.  The  signal's  the  same  if  I  want  you — one 
whistle  or  two,  as  the  case  may  be." 

The  constable  he  called  Jim  crept  away  in  the 
darkness,  while  Mr.  Rogers  found  and  cau- 
tiously opened  a  wicket-gate  leading  to  a  court- 
lodge,  across  which  a  solitary  window  shone  on 
223 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

the  ground-floor  of  a  house  lifting  its  gables  and 
heavy  chimney  against  a  sky  only  less  black  than 
itself. 

"Gad!"  said  Mr.  Rogers,  softly,  "I  wonder 
what  Whitmore's  doing?  The  fun  would  be, 
now,  to  find  one  of  these  windows  unfastened — 
as  like  enough  they'd  be,  this  warm  night — and 
slip  in  upon  him  without  announcing  ourselves. 
'T wouldn't  be  the  thing,  though,  for  a  Justice  of 
the  Peace,  let  alone  Mr.  Doidge  here.  No ;  we'll 
have  to  do  it  in  order  and  knock.  The  maid 
knows  me,  and  Whitmore  won't  smoke  anything 
suspicious.  Only  you  two  must  keep  back  in  the 
shadow  here  while  she  opens  the  door." 

He  stepped  forward  and  knocked  boldly. 

To  the  astonishment  of  us  all  the  door  opened 
almost  at  once,  and  without  any  noise  of  unlock- 
ing or  drawing  of  bolts. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  my  dear — unless  you 
want  to  wake  the  village" — began  a  voice  testily. 
It  was  Mr.  Whitmore's,  and  almost  on  the  in- 
stant by  the  light  of  a  candle  which  he  held,  he 
recognised  the  man  on  the  doorstep. 

"Mr.  Eogers  ?    To  what  do  I  owe " 

"Good  evening,  Whitmore !  May  I  come  in  ? 
Won't  detain  you  long — especially  since  you 
224 


MR.    JACK   ROGERS 

seem  to  be   expecting  company — female  com- 
pany, too,  by  the  sound  of  it." 

"It's  the  maid/'  answered  Mr.  Whitmore, 
coldly,  though  he  seemed  confused.  "She  has 
stepped  down  to  the  village  for  an  hour  to  her 
mother's  cottage,  and  I  am  alone  in  the  house." 

"So  you  call  her  'my  dear'  ?  That's  a  bit 
pastoral,  eh  ?" 

"Look  here,  Rogers:  If  you're  drunk,  I'd 
rather  you  called  at  some  other  time.  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  I'm  busy." 

"Writing  your  sermon  ?  I  thought  Saturday 
was  the  night  for  that.  'Pon  my  honour,  now, 
I  wouldn't  intrude,  only  the  business  is  urgent." 
He  waited  while  Mr.  Whitmore  somewhat 
grudgingly  set  the  door  wide  to  admit  him. 
"By  the  way,  I've  brought  a  couple  of  friends 
with  me." 

"Confound  it  all,  Rogers " 

"Oh,  you  know  them,"  Mr.  Rogers,  with  his 
foot  planted  over  the  threshold,  airily  waved  us 
forward  out  of  the  darkness.  "Mr.  Doidge, 
your  Rector,"  he  announced ;  "also  Mr.  Revel — 
a  recent  acquaintance  of  yours,  as  I  under- 
stand." 

"Good  evening,  Whitmore,"  said  the  Rector, 
225 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

stepping  forward.  "I  owe  you  an  apology  (I 
sincerely  hope)  for  the  circumstances  of  this 
visit,  as  I  certainly  discommend  Mr.  Rogers's 
method  of  introducing  us." 

Now,  as  we  two  slipped  forward,  Mr.  Whit- 
more  had  instantly  shot  out  his  right  hand  to 
the  door — against  which  Mr.  Rogers,  however, 
had  planted  his  foot — with  a  gesture  as  if  to 
slam  it  in  our  faces.  But  the  sombre  apparition 
of  the  Rector  seemed  to  freeze  him  where  he 
stood — or  all  of  him  but  his  left  hand,  which, 
grasping  the  candlestick,  slowly  and  as  if  invol- 
untarily lifted  it  above  the  level  of  his  eyes. 
Then  before  the  Rector  had  concluded,  he  low- 
ered it,  turned,  and  walked  hastily  before  us 
down  the  passage. 

Still  without  speaking  he  passed  through  a 
door  on  his  right,  and  we  followed  him  into  a 
sparely  furnished  room  almost  completely  lined 
with  empty  book-shelves.  A  few  books  lay  scat- 
tered on  the  centre  table,  where,  also,  within  the 
shaded  light  of  a  reading-lamp,  stood  a  tray  with 
a  decanter  and  a  couple  of  glasses.  Beside  this 
lamp  he  set  down  the  candle  and  faced  us.  In 
those  few  paces  down  the  passage  I  had  noticed 
that  he  wore  riding-boots  and  spurs,  and  that 
226 


MR.    JACK   ROGERS 

they  were  spotlessly  bright  and  clean.  But  from 
this  moment  I  had  eyes  only  for  his  face,  which 
was  ashen  white  and  the  more  horrible  because 
he  was  essaying  a  painful  smile. 

aMy  dear  Rector,"  he  began — and  the  smile 
seemed  to  harden  into  a  fixed  grin — "this  is 
indeed  a — a  surprise.  You  said  nothing  of  any 
such  intention  when  I  had  the  honour  to  call 
on  you  in  Plymouth,  two  days  ago." 

"Good  reason  for  why,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Rogers.  "Look  here,  Whitmore — with  the  Rec- 
tor's leave,  we'll  get  this  over.  Do  you  know 
this  coin  ?" 

He  plunged  a  hand  into  his  breech  pocket, 
drew  forth  the  guinea,  and  held  it  forward  in 
his  open  palm  under  the  lamp. 

I  could  see  the  unhappy  man  pick  up  his 
courage  to  fix  his  gaze  on  the  coin  and  hold  it 
fixed. 

"I  don't  understand  you,  Rogers,"  he  an- 
swered, firmly  enough.  "I  have,  of  course,  no 
knowledge  of  that  coin  or  what  it  means.  To  me 
it  looks  like  an  ordinary  guinea." 

"I  won  it  from  you  last  night,  Whitmore ;  and 
it  is  not  an  ordinary  guinea,  but  a  marked  one. 
What's  more,  I  marked  it  myself — see,  with  this 
227 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

small  cross  behind  the  king's  head.  What's 
more,  I  sold  it,  so  marked,  to  Rodriguez,  the 
Jew." 

"Who,  I  suppose,  promptly  put  it  into  circu- 
lation in  Plymouth,  where  by  chance  it  was 
handed  to  me  amid  the  change  when  I.  paid  my 
hotel  bill — if,  indeed,  you  are  absolutely  sure 
you  were  given  this  coin  by  me." 

"Come,  Eogers,  that's  an  explanation  I  my- 
self suggested,"  put  in  the  Rector. 

It  was  indeed  an  easy  explanation,  though  I 
did  not  believe  in  it  for  a  moment.  Still,  even 
knowing  what  I  knew,  I  was  surprised  at  the 
half-hearted  tone  in  which  he  uttered  it,  and 
still  more  at  the  look  (of  utter  fright)  which, 
while  uttering  it,  he  cast  on  me. 

"The  folks  at  the  Royal  Hotel,"  answered  Mr. 
Rogers,  curtly,  "tell  me  that  you  paid  your  bill 
in  silver.  I  had — though  I  did  not  tell  him  so — 
already  discovered  that  when  the  Rector  raised 
the  question." 

Now,  I  might  well  have  wondered — as  I  won- 
dered later,  and  before  the  answer  was  given  me 
— what  had  changed  the  harum-scarum  Jack 
Rogers  of  a  few  hours  ago  into  the  cross-exam- 
iner before  me.  This  lighter  of  last  night's  bon- 
228 


ME.    JACK    EOGERS 

fire  was  not — one  would  have  supposed — the 
man  to  press  hardly  on  anyone  who  happened  to 
find  himself  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  law,  even 
though  the  crime  were  murder.  Yet  he  was 
pressing  Whitmore  harshly,  almost  with  a  note 
of  private  vindictiveness  in  his  voice.  But  just 
now  my  eyes  fell  on  the  curate's  hand  as  it 
played  nervously  with  the  base  of  the  brass  can- 
dlestick. There  was  a  ring  on  the  little  finger, 
and  in  an  instant  I  knew — though  I  could  not 
have  sworn  to  it  in  court,  yet  knew  more  cer- 
tainly than  many  things  to  which  I  could  have 
testified  on  oath — that  this  was  the  hand  I  had 
seen  closing  the  door  in  the  Jew's  house. 

Through  a  buzzing  of  the  brain  I  heard  him 
addressing  the  Rector,  and  protesting  against 
the  absurdity,  the  monstrosity  of  the  charge — 
yet  still  with  that  recurring  agonised  glance  at 
me.  But  my  eyes  now  were  on  Mr.  Rogers,  and 
the  buzzing  ceased  and  my  brain  cleared  when 
he  swung  round,  inviting  me  to  speak.  I  cannot 
tell  what  question  he  put  to  me,  but  what  I  said 
was: 

"If  you  please,  sirs,  the  runners  are  after  me, 
and  it  isn't  fair  to  make  me  tell  yet  what  hap- 
pened in  the  Jew's  house,  or  what  I  saw  there  j 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAKEY    EEVEL 

for  what  I  told  might  be  twisted  and  turned 
against  me." 

"Nonsense !"  interrupted  Mr.  Rogers.  But 
the  Rector  nodded  his  head.  "The  boy's  right. 
He's  under  suspicion  himself, ,  and  should  have 
a  lawyer  to  advise  him  before  he  speaks.  That's 
only  fair  play." 

"But,"  I  went  on,  "there's  another  thing,  if 
you'll  be  pleased  to  ask  Mr.  Whitmore  about  it. 
Why  is  he  paying  money  to  a  soldier — a  man 
who  calls  himself  Letcher,  but  his  real  name  is 
Leicester?  And  what  have  they  been  plotting 
against  Miss  Isabel  down  at  the  Cottage  ?" 


230 


CHAPTEE  XVII 

LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES 

THE  effect  of  my  words  amazed  me.  As  a 
regiment  holding  itself  bravely  against  an  at- 
tack in  front  will  suddenly  melt  at  an  unex- 
pected shout  in  its  rear  and  collapses  without 
striking  another  blow,  so  Mr.  Whitmore  col- 
lapsed. His  jaw  fell;  his  eyes  wildly  searched 
the  dim  corners  of  the  room;  his  two  hands 
gripped  the  edge  of  the  table ;  he  dropped  slowly 
into  the  chair  behind  him,  dragging  the  table- 
cloth askew  as  he  sank. 

With  that  I  felt  Mr.  Rogers's  grip  on  my 
shoulder — no  gentle  one,  I  can  assure  you.  He, 
too,  had  been  gazing  at  the  curate,  but  now 
stared  down,  searching  my  face. 

"You've  hit  him,  by  George !  Quick,  boy ! — 
have  you  learnt  more  than  you  told  me  last 
night  ?  Or  is  it  only  guessing  ?" 

"Ask  him,"  said  I,  "why  he  married  Miss 
Isabel?" 

231 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"Married  ?  Isabel  Brooks  married  ? — and  to 
that  hound  2" 

"Not  to  him,  but  to  Archibald  Plinlimmon. 
Mr.  Whitmore  married  them  privately.  Ask 
him  why." 

"Why  ?"  Mr.  Kogers  released  me  and  spring- 
ing on  the  curate,  seized  him  by  the  collar. 
"Why,  you  unhanged  cur  ?  Why  ?  Or,  better, 
say  it's  not  true — say  something,  or,  by  the 
Lord,  I'll  kill  you  here  and  now!" 

Mr.  Whitmore  slid  from  the  chair  and, 
grovelling  on  the  floor,  clasped  Mr.  Doidge's 
knees. 

"Take  him  off !"  he  gasped.  "Have  mercy — 
take  him  off!  You  shall  hear  everything,  sir; 
indeed  you  shall.  Only  have  mercy,  and  take 
him  off!" 

"Pah !"  Mr.  Kogers  hurled  him  into  a  cor- 
ner. 

"Enough,  Mr.  Rogers !"  commanded  the  Rec- 
tor, quietly  but  sternly.  The  two  stood  eyeing 
the  culprit,  who,  crouching  where  he  fell,  gazed 
up  at  them  dumbly,  pitifully,  as  a  dog  between 
two  thrashings. 

"Now,  sir,"  the  Rector  continued.  "You 
married  this  couple,  it  seems.  At  whose  re- 
quest ?" 

232 


LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES 

"At  their  own/'  came  the  answer  in  a  whisper. 

"Ay,"  said  Mr.  Rogers,  "at  their  own  request. 
You — not  being  a  priest  at  all,  or  in  orders,  but 
a  swindler  with  a  forged  licence — married  that 
lady  at  her  own  request." 

"Is  that  true  ?"  the  Eector  demanded. 

The  poor  wretch  made  as  if  to  crawl  towards 
him,  to  clasp  his  knees  again.  "Mercy!"  he 
whined,  between  two  sobs. 

"One  moment,"  Mr.  Rogers  insisted,  as  the 
Eector  held  up  a  hand.  "Did  young  Plinlim- 
mon  know  of  the  fraud  ?" 

"No." 

"Does  he  know  now?" 

"No." 

"Thank  the  Lord  for  that  small  mercy !  For, 
by  the  Lord,  Fd  have  shot  him  without  grace  to 
say  his  prayers." 

"Mr.  Rogers !"  again  the  Rector  lifted  a  re- 
proving hand. 

"You  don't  understand,  sir.  For  this  mar- 
riage— which  isn't  a  marriage — Isabel  Brooks 
gave  the  door  to  an  honest  man.  I  may  be  a 
bit  of  a  fool,  sir,  but  since  she  wasn't  for  me  I 
prayed  she  might  find  a  better  fellow.  That's 
233 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

sound  Christianity,  hey  ?  I  can  tell  you  it  came 

tough  enough.  And  now "  He  swung 

round  upon  Whitmore.  "Did  this  man  Letcher 
know?"  he  demanded. 

"He  did,  Mr.  Rogers.  Oh,  if  you  only  knew 
what  agonies  of  mind " 

"Stow  your  agonies  of  mind!  We'll  begin 
with  those  you've  caused.  What  was  Letcher's 
game  ?" 

"His  right  name  is  Leicester,  sir.  He  is  Mr. 
Plinlimmon's  cousin — or  second  cousin,  rather 
— though  Mr.  Plinlimmon  don't  know  it."  Mr. 
Whitmore,  with  his  gloss  rubbed  off,  was  fast 
returning  to  his  native  style  even  in  speech.  You 
could  as  little  mistake  him  now  for  a  gentleman 
as  for  a  priest. 

"And  how  does  that  bear  on  this  pretty  plot  ?" 

"I  can  tell  you  that,  gentlemen;  for  when 
George  Leicester  forced  me  to  it — and  it  was 
only  under  threats  so  terrible  that  you  would 
hardly  believe " 

"In  other  words,  he  knew  enough  to  hang 
you." 

"It  was  terrorism,  gentlemen ;  I  was  his  slave, 
body  and  soul.  But  when  he  came  and  proposed 
234 


LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES 

this,  and  never  told  me  what  he  was  to  get  by  it 
— for  the  plan  was  all  his  and  I  stood  to  win 
nothing,  absolutely  nothing — I  determined  to 
find  out  for  myself,  thinking  (you  see)  that  by 
getting  at  his  secret  I  might  put  myself  on  level 
terms." 

"That  is  to  say,  you  might  discover  enough 
to  hang  him.  I  hope  you  succeeded." 

"To  this  extent,  Mr.  Rogers — George  Leices- 
ter and  Archibald  Plinlimmon's  mother  were 
first  cousins.  There  were  three  Leicesters,  to 
begin  with,  as  you  might  say — Sir  Charles,  who 
was  head  of  the  family,  and  is  living  yet,  though 
close  on  eighty,  and  two  younger  brothers,  Ar- 
chibald and  Randall,  both  dead.  Sir  Charles 
was  a  bachelor,  and  for  years  his  brothers  lived 
with  him  in  a  sort  of  dependence.  Toward  mid- 
dle-age they  both  married — I  was  told,  by  his  or- 
ders— and  near  about  at  the  same  time.  At  any 
rate,  each  married,  and  each  had  a  child — Ar- 
chibald a  daughter,  and  Randall  a  son.  Archi- 
bald's daughter — he  died  two  years  after  her 
birth — was  brought  up  by  her  uncle,  Sir 
Charles,  who  made  a  pet  of  her ;  but  she  spoilt 
her  prospects  by  marrying  a  poor  soldier,  Cap- 
tain Plinlimmon.  I  fancy  she  ran  away  with 
235 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

him.  At  any  rate,  the  old  man  would  never 
speak  to  her  again,  nor  see  her,  and  cut  her  out 
of  his  will." 

"I  see.  And  she — this  daughter  of  Archibald 
Leicester — was  Archibald  Plinlimmon's  mother. 
Is  she  living?77 

"Mrs.  Plinlimmon  died  some  years  ago,"  I 
put  in. 

"Hey  ?  What  do  you  know  about  all  this  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Rogers. 

"A  little,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"But  what  little  you  know — does  it  bear  this 
man's  story  out?7' 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Eight.  It's  as  well  to  have  some  check  on 
it,  for  I'd  trust  him  just  so  far  as  I  could  fling 
him  by  the  eyebrows." 

"There  was  no  profit  for  me  in  this  business, 
Mr.  Eogers,"  protested  Whitmore.  "I'm  telling 
you  the  truth,  sir — I  am  indeed.77  And  indeed 
the  poor  rogue,  having  for  the  moment  another 7s 
sins  to  confess,  rattled  on  with  his  story  almost 
glibly.  "As  I  was  saying,  sir,  the  old  man  cut 
her  out  of  his  will ;  and  not  only  this,  but  had  a 
Bible  fetched  and  took  his  oath  upon  it  that 
no  child  of  hers  should  ever  touch  a  penny  of  his 
236 


LYDIA  BELCHEE  INTERVENES 

money.  Be  so  good  as  to  bear  that  in  mind,  sir, 
for  it's  important." 

"I  see,"  Mr.  Kogers  nodded.  "So  that  cuts 
out  Master  Archibald.  And  the  money,  I  sup- 
pose, went  to  her  brother's  child — the  boy  you 
spoke  of." 

"Softly,  sir,  for  now  we  come  to  it.  That 
boy — Randall  Leicester's  son — was  George 
Leicester,  the  man  who  calls  himself  Letcher. 
Randall  Leicester  lived  long  enough  to  have  his 
heart  broken  by  him.  He  started  in  the  Navy, 
wi^h  plenty  of  pocket  money  and  better  pros- 
pects, for  Sir  Charles  turned  all  his  affection 
over  to  him  and — it  was  taken  for  granted — 
meant  to  make  him  his  heir.  But — if  you  knew 
George  Leicester,  gentlemen,  as  I  do!  That 
man  has  a  devil  in  him;  and  the  devil  showed 
himself  early.  First,  there  was  an  ugly  story 
about  a  woman — a  planter's  wife  in  one  of  the 
West  India  islands,  where  he  was  serving  un- 
der Abercromby — Santa  Lucia,  I  think,  or  it 
may  have  been  St.  Vincent.  They  say  that  after 
getting  her  to  run  with  him,  he  left  her  stranded 
and  bolted  back  to  the  ship  with  his  pockets  full 
of  her  jewels.  On  top  of  that  came  a  bad  busi- 
ness at  Naples — an  affair  of  cards — which  cost 
237 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY    REVEL 

him  his  uniform.  After  that  he  disappeared, 
and  for  years  his  uncle  has  believed  him  to  be 
dead.77 

"Then  who  gets  the  money  ?" 

"There's  the  villainy,  sir" — he  spoke  as  if  in- 
deed he  had  taken  no  hand  in  it.  "Sir  Charles, 
you  see,  was  tied  by  his  oath  not  to  leave  it  to 
young  Plinlimmon ;  but  it  seems  he's  persuaded 
himself  that  the  oath  doesn't  apply  to  young 
Plinlimmon's  children,  should  he  marry  and 
have  children.  To  whom  else  should  it  go  ? 
'Lawf ul  heirs  of  his  body' — you  may  bet  the  w^ill 
runs.  I've  a  notion  that  George  Leicester  has 
made  certain  of  this ;  but,  anyway,  that's  how  I 
explain  his  game.  If  the  inheritance  is  made 
void  by  bastardy,  you  see,  he  turns  up  as  the 
legitimate  heir  and  collars  the  best  of  the  prop- 
erty." 

"My  God!"  shouted  Mr.  Rogers,  and  would 
have  leapt  on  him  again  to  throttle  him,  had  not 
the  Rector,  with  wonderful  agility  for  his  years, 
flung  himself  between.  "You  dare  to  stand 
there  and  tell  me  that,  to  aid  this  deviltry,  you 
pushed  a  woman  into  shame — and  that  woman 
Isabel  Brooks." 

"Mr.  Rogers,"  the  Rector  implored,  "control 
238 


LYDIA  BELCHEE  INTERVENES 

yourself.  I  know  better  than  you — every  man 
knows  who  has  been  a  parish  priest — what  vile- 
ness  a  man  can  be  guilty  of  to  save  his  skin.  Re- 
serve your  wrath  for  Leicester,  but  let  this  poor 
creature  be — he  has  an  awful  expiation  before 
him — and  consider  with  me  if  the  worst  of  this 
evil  cannot  be  remedied."  He  turned  to  the  cu- 
rate. "You  have  the  registers — the  parish 
papers  ?  Where  are  they  ?  Here  ?" 

Whitmore  nodded  towards  a  door  in  the  cor- 
ner— not  the  door  by  which  we  had  entered,  but 
one  which,  by  its  appearance,  might  open  on  a 
large  cupboard. 

"Is  the  licence  for  this  marriage  among 
them  ?  Give  me  the  key." 

The  curate  nodded  and  seemed  to  search  in 
his  pocket  for  a  moment;  then  jerked  a  hand 
towards  the  door,  as  if  meaning  that  no  key  was 
necessary.  The  Rector  strode  across  to  search. 

"By  God,  it  shall  be  remedied !"  Mr.  Rogers 
shouted.  "Rector !" 

The  old  man  turned. 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"You  can  marry  them  yet." 

"To  be  sure  I  can.  And  if  the  licence  is  in 
239 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

order,  little  time  need  be  lost.  Let  me  search 
for  it." 

"Man,  there's  no  time  to  lose!  The  North 
Wilts  Regiment  sails  to-morrow  night  for  Portu- 
gal. I  heard  the  news  as  I  left  Plymouth." 

"If  that's  so,"  I  put  in,  "Mr.  Plinlimmon  will 
be  down  at  the  Cottage  to-night,  or  to-morrow 
morning,  to  say  good-bye." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that  ?" 

"Sure,"  said  I.  "Miss  Isabel  told  me  that  he 
had  his  Colonel's  promise." 

Mr.  Rogers  slapped  his  thigh.  "Egad,  boy, 
it  seems  to  me  you're  the  good  angel  in  this 
business.  We'll  send  down  to  the  Cottage  at 
once." 

He  pulled  a  dog-whistle  from  his  pocket  and 
blew  two  shrill  calls  upon  it.  But  above  the  sec- 
ond sounded  the  Rector's  voice  in  a  sharp  excla- 
mation, and  we  spun  round  in  time  to  see 
him  fling  back  the  door  and  pass,  not  into  a  cup- 
board as  I  had  expected,  but  into  a  lighted  room. 

I  was  running  towards  the  door  to  see  what 

his  exclamation  might  mean,  when  at  the  other 

appeared  the  constable  whom  Mr.  Rogers  called 

"Jim" — a  youngish  man,  and  tall,  with  a  round 

240 


LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES 

head  set  like  a  button  on  top  of  a  massive  pair 
of  shoulders. 

"You  whistled  for  me,  sir  ?" 

"I  did.  You  will  not  be  wanted  to  keep  watch 
any  longer.  Step  down  to  Minden  Cottage  and 
give  this  note  to  Miss  Brooks."  He  pulled  out  a 
pencil,  searched  his  pockets  and  found  a  scrap 
of  paper,  and,  leaning  over  the  table,  scrib- 
bled a  few  lines.  "If  Miss  Brooks  has  gone  to 
bed,  you  must  knock  her  up." 

"Very  good,  sir."  Constable  Jim  touched  his 
hat  and  retired. 

"And  now  what's  the  matter  in  there  ?  Come 
along,  you,  Whitmore.  Has  he  found  the 
licence?" 

But  this  was  not  what  the  Rector's  cry  had  an- 
nounced. The  room  into  which  we  passed  had 
apparently  served  Mr.  Whitmore  for  a  bed- 
chamber and  private  study  combined,  for  a  bed 
stood  in  the  corner,  and  a  book-case  and  bureau 
on  either  side  of  the  chimney-piece.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  floor  lay  an  open  valise,  and  all  around 
it  a  litter  of  books  and  clothes,  tossed  here  and 
there  as  their  owner  had  dragged  them  out  to 
make  a  selection  in  his  packing. 

Mr.  Rogers  uttered  a  long  whistle.  "So  you 
241 


ADVENTUEES    OF    HAERY    EEVEL 

were  in  the  act  of  bolting?"  He  stared  around, 
rubbing  his  chin  and  forehead,  his  eyes  again  on 
Whitmore.  "Now,  why  to-night,  I  wonder  ?" 

"My  conscience,  Mr.  Rogers " 

"Oh,  the  devil  take  your  conscience!  Your 
conscience  seems  to  have  timed  matters  pretty 
accurately,  if  not  quite  accurately  enough.  Say 
that  your  nose  smelt  a  rat.  But  why  to-night  ?" 

I  cannot  say  why,  but,  as  he  stared  around,  a 
nausea  seemed  to  take  the  unfortunate  man. 
Perhaps,  the  excitement  of  confession  over,  the 
cold  shadow  of  the  end  rose  and  thrust  itself  be- 
fore him.  He  was,  I  feel  sure,  a  coward  in 
grain.  He  swayed  and  caught  at  the  ledge  of 
the  chimney-piece,  almost  knocking  over  one  of 
the  two  candles  which  burned  there. 

With  that  there  smote  on  our  ears  the  sounds 
of  two  voices  in  altercation  outside — one  a 
woman's  high  contralto.  And,  a  moment  later, 
footsteps  came  bustling  through  the  outer  room 
and  there  stood  on  the  threshold — Miss  Belcher. 

She  was  attired  in  a  low-crowned  beaver  hat 
and  a  riding-habit,  the  skirt  of  which,  hitched 
high  in  her  left  hand,  disclosed  a  pair  of  tall 
boots  cut  like  hessians  but  without  the  hessian 
tassel.  On  this  hand  blazed  an  enormous  dia- 
242 


LYDIA  BELCHER  INTERVENES 

mond.  The  other,  resting  on  her  hip,  held  a 
hunting-crop  and  a  pair  of  gauntleted  gloves. 

"I  bid  ye  be  quiet,  Sam  Hodgson,"  she  was 
saying  to  the  constable,  who  followed  her,  vainly 
expostulating.  aMan,  if  you  dare  to  get  in  my 
way,  I'll  take  the  whip  to  ye.  To  heel,  I  say ! 
'Mr.  Rogers's  orders'  ?  Damn  your  impidence, 
what  do  I  care  for  Mr.  Rogers?  Why,  hullo, 
Jack " 

As  her  gaze  travelled  round  the  room,  Mr. 
Rogers  stepped  up  and  addressed  the  constable 
across  her: 

"It's  all  right,  Hodgson ;  you  may  go  back  to 
your  post.  I  wasn't  expecting  Miss  Belcher. 
And,  begad,  Lydia,"  he  added,  as  the  constable 
withdrew,  "this  is  a  queer  hour  for  a  call." 

But  Miss  Belcher's  gaze  moved  slowly  from 
the  Rector — whose  bow  she  answered  with  a  curt 
nod — to  me,  and  from  me  to  the  figure  of  Whit- 
more  by  the  fireplace. 

"What's  wrong?"  she  demanded.  "Lord,  if 
he's  not  fainting!" — and  as  she  ran,  the  curate 
swayed  and  almost  fell  into  her  arms.  "Brandy, 
Jack ! — I  saw  a  bottle  in  the  next  room,  didn't 
I  ?  No,  thank  ye,  Rector — I  can  manage  him." 

As  Mr.  Rogers  hurried  back  for  the  brandy, 
243 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

she  lifted  the  man  and  carried  him,  rejecting  our 
help,  to  an  arm-chair  beside  the  window.  There 
for  a  moment,  standing  with  her  back  to  me,  she 
peered  into  his  face  and  (as  I  think  now)  whis- 
pered a  word  to  him. 

"Open  the  window,  boy — he  wants  air,"  she 
called  to  me,  over  her  shoulder. 

While  I  fumbled  to  draw  the  curtains,  she 
reached  an  arm  past  me  and  flung  them  back; 
and  so,  with  a  turn  of  the  wrist  unlatched  the 
casement  and  thrust  the  pane  wide.  In  doing 
so  she  leaned  the  weight  of  her  body  on  mine, 
pressing  me  back  among  the  curtain-folds. 

I  heard  a  cry  from  the  Eector.  An  oath  from 
Mr.  Rogers  answered  it.  But  between  the  cry 
and  the  answer  Mr.  Whitmore  rushed  past  me 
and,  vaulting  the  sill,  escaped  into  the  night. 

"Confound  you,  Lydia !"  Mr.  Rogers  set  down 
the  tray  with  a  crash  and  leapt  over  it  toward 
the  window,  finding  his  whistle  and  blowing  a 
shrill  call  as  he  ran.  "We'll  have  him  yet !  Tell 
Hodgson  to  take  the  lane.  Oh,  confound  your 
interference !" 

Across  the  yard  a  clatter  of  hoofs  sounded, 

cutting  short  his  speech. 
244 


LYDIA  BELCHEE  INTERVENES 

"The  gate !"  he  shouted,  clambering  across  the 
sill. 

But  he  was  too  late.  As  he  dropped  upon  the 
cobbles  and  pelted  off  to  close  it,  I  saw  and  heard 
a  horse  and  rider  go  hurling  through  the  open 
gate — an  indistinguishable  mass.  A  shout — a 
jet  or  two  of  sparks — a  bang  on  the  thin  timbers 
as  on  a  drum — and  the  hoofs  were  thudding 
away  farther  and  farther  into  darkness. 


245 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


SILENCE — and  then  Mr.  Rogers's  voice  up- 
lifted and  shouting  for  Hodgson. 

But  Hodgson,  it  seemed,  had  found  a  way  of 
his  own.  For,  a  moment  later,  a  fresh  sound  of 
hoofs  alarmed  the  night — this  time  in  the  lane, 
down  which  it  swept  in  pursuit — a  tune  pound- 
ed out  to  the  accompaniment  of  loose  stones 
volleyed  and  dropping  between  the  beats. 

"Drat  the  man's  impidence,"  said  Miss 
Belcher,  coolly;  "he's  taken  my  mare." 

"What's  that  you  say  ?"  demanded  Mr. 
Rogers's  angry  voice  from  the  yard. 

"You  won't  find  another  horse,  Jack,  unless 
you  brought  him.  Whitmore  keeps  but  one." 

"Confound  it  all,  Lydia !"  He  came  sullenly 
back  towards  the  window. 

"You've  said  that  before.  The  man's  gone, 
unless  Hodgson  can  overtake  him — which  I 
doubt.  He  rides  sixteen  stone,  if  an  ounce, 
246 


THE    OWL'S    CRY 

and  the  mare's  used  to  something  under  eleven. 
So  give  over,  my  boy,  and  come  in  and  tell  me 
what  it's  all  about." 

"Look  here,"  he  growled,  clambering  back 
into  the  room,  " there's  deviltry  somewhere  at 
the  bottom  of  this.  The  fellow's  nag  was  ready 
saddled — I  got  near  enough  to  see  that ;  and  the 
yard-gate  posted  open;  and — the  devil  take  it, 
Lydia,  I  believe  you  opened  that  window  on  pur- 
pose !  Did  you  ?" 

"That's  telling,  my  dear.  But,  if  you  like, 
we'll  suppose  that  I  did." 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Kogers,  "it  may  interest 
you  to  know  that  you've  given  him  bail  from  the 
gallows.  He's  no  priest  at  all ;  by  his  own  con- 
fession he's  a  forger,  and  I'll  lay  odds  he's  a 
murderer,  too,  if  that's  enough.  But  perhaps 
you  knew  this  without  my  telling  you  ?" 

Miss  Belcher  took  a  step  or  two  towards  the 
fireplace  and  back.  Her  face,  white  for  a  mo- 
ment, was  composed  when  she  turned  it  again 
upon  us. 

"Don't  be  an  ass,  Jack.  I  knew  nothing  of 
the  sort." 

"You  knew  enough,  it  seems,"  Mr.  Rogers 
persisted,  sulkily,  "to  guess  he  was  in  a  hurry. 
247 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

And  you'll  excuse  me,  Lydia,  but  this  is  a  seri- 
ous business.  Whether  you  knew  it  or  not, 
you've  abetted  a  criminal  in  escaping  from  the 
law,  and  I've  my  duty  to  do.  What  brought  you 
here  to-night  ?" 

"Are  you  asking  that  as  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace  2" 

"I  am,"  he  answered,  flushing  angrily. 

"Then  I  shall  not  answer  you.  Who  is  this 
boy?" 

"His  name  is  Harry  Kevel." 

"What  ?  The  youngster  the  hue-and-cry's 
after  ?" 

"Quite  so;  and  a  youngster  in  a  pretty  bad 
mess,  now  that  you've  opened  the  cage  to  the  real 
bird." 

"Jack  Eogers,  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that 
he— that  Mr.  Whitmore " 

"Killed  the  Jew,  Eodriguez  ?  Well,  Lydia, 
I've  no  doubt  of  it  in  my  own  mind ;  but  when 
you  entered  we  were  investigating  another  crime 
of  his,  and  a  dirtier  one." 

She  swept  us  all  in  a  gaze,  and  I  suppose  that 
our  faces  answered  her. 

"Very  well,"  she  said;  "I  will  answer  your 
questions.  You  may  put  them  to  me  as  a  magis- 
248 


THE    OWL'S    CEY 

trate  later  on,  but  just  now  you  shall  listen  to 
them  as  a  friend  and  a  gentleman."  With  her 
hunting-crop  she  pointed  towards  the  door.  "In 
the  next  room  and  alone,  if  you  please.  Thank 
you.  You  will  excuse  us,  Rector?" 

She  bowed  to  the  old  man.  Mr.  Rogers  stood 
aside  to  let  her  pass,  then  followed.  The  door 
closed  behind  them. 

Mr.  Doidge  fumbled  in  his  pockets,  found  his 
spectacles,  adjusted  them  with  a  shaking  hand, 
and  sat  down  before  the  bureau  to  search  for  the 
licence.  The  pigeon-holes  contained  but  a  few 
bundles  of  papers,  all  tied  very  neatly  with  red 
tape  and  docketed.  (Neatness,  at  any  rate,  was 
one  of  Mr.  Whitmore's  virtues.  Although  the 
carpet  lay  littered  with  books,  boots,  and  articles 
of  clothing,  which  by  their  number  proclaimed 
the  dandy,  the  few  selected  for  the  valise  had 
been  deftly  packed  and  with  extreme  economy  of 
space.)  In  the  first  drawer  below  the  writing- 
flap  the  Rector  found  the  Register  and  parish  ac- 
count-books in  an  orderly  pile.  He  seized  on  the 
Register  at  once,  opened  it,  and  ran  his  eyes 
down  the  later  pages,  muttering  while  he 
read: 

"There  is  no  entry  here  of  Miss  Brooks's  mar- 
249 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAREY    EEVEL 

riage,"  he  announced.  "One,  two,  three — five 
marriages  in  all,  entered  in  his  handwriting ;  but 
no  such  name  as  Brooks  or  Plinlimmon.  Stay ! 
what  is  the  meaning  of  this,  I  wonder  ? — a  blank 
line  between  two  entries — one  of  March  20th, 
the  other  of  the  25th — both  baptisms.  Looks  as 
if  he'd  left  room  for  a  post-entry.  Let's  have  a 
look  at  the  papers." 

He  tossed  the  bundles  over  and  found  one 
labelled  "Marriages" ;  spread  the  papers  out  and 
rubbed  his  head  in  perplexity.  Isabel's  licence 
was  not  among  them.  Next  he  began  to  open  the 
books  and  shake  them,  pausing  now  and  again 
as  a  page  of  figures  caught  his  eye. 

"Accounts  seem  in  order,  down  to  the  petty 
cash."  He  stooped,  picked  up  and  opened  a 
small  parcel  of  coin  wrapped  in  paper,  which 
his  elbow  had  brushed  off  the  ledge.  "Fifteen 
and  ninepence — right,  to  a  penny.  But  where 
in  the  world  can  that  licence  be?" 

There  were  drawers  in  the  lower  half  of  the 
bookcase,  and  he  directed  me  to  search  in  these 
while  he  hunted  again  through  the  bureau.  And 
while  we  were  thus  occupied  the  door  opened 
and  Miss  Belcher  re-entered  the  room  with  Mr. 
Eogers  at  her  heels.  Had  it  been  possible  to  as- 
250 


THE    OWL'S    CKY 

sociate  tears  with  Miss  Belcher,  I  could  have 
sworn  she  had  been  weeping.  Her  first  words, 
and  the  ringing  masculine  tone  of  them,  effaced 
that  half -formed  impression. 

"What  the  dickens  are  you  two  about?" 

"We  are  searching  for  a  licence,"  the  Rector 
answered.  "I  am  right,  Mr.  Rogers — am  I 
not  ? — in  my  recollection  that  Whitmore  indi- 
cated it  to  be  here,  in  this  room,  and  easily 
found?" 

"To  be  sure  he  did/'  said  Mr.  Rogers. 

"I  cannot  find  it  among  his  papers — which, 
for  the  rest,  are  in  apple-pie  order." 

Thereupon  we  all  fell  to  searching.  In  half 
an  hour  we  had  ransacked  the  room,  and  all 
to  no  purpose;  and  so,  as  if  by  signal,  broke 
off  and  eyed  one  another  in  dismay. 

And  as  we  did  so  Miss  Belcher  laughed 
aloud  and  pointed  at  the  valise  lying  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor — the  only  thing  we  had 
left  unexplored. 

Mr.  Rogers  flung  himself  upon  it,  tossed  its 
contents  right  and  left,  dived  his  hand  under  a 
flap,  and  held  up  a  paper  with  a  shout. 

The  Rector  clutched  it  eagerly  and,  unfold- 
ing it  as  he  went,  hurried  to  the  bureau  to  ex- 
251 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARKY    REVEL 

amine  it  by  the  light  of  the  candles  he  had 
taken  from  the  chimney-piece  and  placed  there 
to  assist  his  search. 

"It's  the  licence !"  he  announced. 

The  two  others  pressed  forward  to  assure 
themselves.  He  put  the  paper  into  their  hands 
and  stepped  to  the  rifled  valise,  bent  over  it, 
rubbing  his  chin  meditatively. 

"Now  why/'  he  asked,  "would  he  be  taking 
this  particular  paper  with  him  ?" 

"Because,"  Miss  Belcher  answered,  with  a 
glance  at  Mr.  Eogers,  "he  was  a  villain,  but 
not  a  complete  one.  He  was  a  weak  fool — oh 
yes,  and  I  hate  him  for  it ;  but  I  won't  believe 
but  that  he  loathed  this  business." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  get  that  out  of  his 
packing  the  paper,  to  carry  it  off  with  him, 
though  it's  queer,  I'll  allow,"  said  Mr.  Eogers. 

"It's  plain  enough  to  me.  He  meant,  if  he 
reached  safety,  to  send  the  thing  back  to  you, 
Eector,  and  explain ;  he  meant  to  set  this  thing 
right;  I'll  go  bail  he  abominated  what  he'd 
done,  and  abominated  the  man  who  compelled 
him." 

"He  called  it  damnable,"  said  I.    "I  heard 

him." 

252 


THE   OWL'S   CRY 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  my  mouth 
when  my  ears  and  senses  stiffened  at  a  sound 
from  the  night  without,  borne  to  us  through 
the  open  window — the  hoot  of  an  owl. 

The  others  heard  it  too. 

"There  he  is  I"  I  whispered. 

"Who  3"  asked  Miss  Belcher.  But  I  nodded 
at  Mr.  Rogers,  who  understood. 

"Letcher;  that's  his  call." 

Mr.  Rogers  glanced  at  the  window,  and 
grinned. 

"Now  here's  a  chance,"  he  said,  softly. 

"Eh  ?" 

"He  hasn't  seen  us.  Stand  close,  everyone — 
oh,  Moses,  here's  a  game!"  He  seemed  to  be 
considering. 

"Let's  have  it,  Jack,"  Miss  Belcher  urged. 
"Don't  be  keeping  all  the  fun  to  yourself." 

"Whist  a  moment  and  don't  bustle  a  man! 
I  was  thinking  what  to  do  with  you  three.  The 
door's  in  line  with  the  window,  and  he'll  spot 
anyone  that  crosses  the  room." 

I  pointed  to  the  window-skirting.  "Not  if 
one  crossed  close  under  the  window,  sir — on 
hands  and  knees." 

"Good  boy!  Can  you  manage  it,  Lydia? 
253 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

Keep  close  by  the  wall,  tuck  in  your  tuppenny 
and  slip  across." 

She  nodded.     "And  where,  then?" 

"Under  the  bed  or  behind  the  far  curtain— 
which  you  will ;  and  no  tricks,  this  time.  The 
near  curtain  will  do  for  the  Hector.  Is  that 
your  hat,  sir — there  beside  you,  on  the  bu- 
reau ?" 

"!N"o ;  I  left  mine  in  the  next  room.  It  must 
belong  to  Whitmore." 

"Better  still!  Pass  it  over — thank  you. 
And  now,  if  you  please,  we'll  exchange  coats." 
Mr.  Rogers  began  to  strip. 

The  Rector  hesitated,  but  after  a  moment 
his  eye  twinkled  and  he  comprehended.  The 
coats  were  exchanged,  and  he  too  began  to  steal 
towards  the  window. 

"This  will  do  for  me,  sir,"  said  I,  pointing 
to  a  cupboard  under  the  bookcase. 

"Plenty  of  room  beneath  the  bed,"  he  de- 
cided, as  Miss  Belcher  disappeared  behind  her 
curtain.  And  so  it  happened  that,  better  than 
either  she  or  the  Rector,  I  saw  what  followed. 

We  were  in  hiding  some  while  before  the 
owl's  cry  sounded  again  and  (as  it  seemed  to 
me)  from  the  same  distance  as  before.  Mr. 
254 


THE    OWL'S    CRY 

Bogers,  in  the  Hector's  coat  and  the  curate's 
hat,  stepped  hurriedly  to  the  valise  and  began 
to  re-pack  it,  kneeling  with  his  back  to  the  win- 
dow and  full  in  the  line  of  sight.  I  am  fain 
to  say  that  he  played  his  part  admirably.  The 
suspense,  which  kept  my  heart  knocking  against 
my  ribs,  either  did  not  trouble  him  or  threw 
into  his  movements  just  the  amount  of  agita- 
tion to  make  them  plausible.  By-and-by  he 
scrambled  up,  collected  a  heap  of  garments  and 
flung  them  back  into  a  wardrobe  beside  the 
bed;  stepped  to  the  bureau — still  keeping  his 
face  averted  from  the  window — picked  up  and 
pocketed  the  licence  which  the  Rector  had  left 
there;  returned  to  the  valise,  and,  stooping 
again,  rammed  its  contents  tighter — I  saw  then 
that  he  had  disengaged  the  leather  straps  which 
ran  round  it,  pulling  them  clear  of  their  loops. 

It  was  then  that  I  heard  a  light  sound  on 
the  cobbles  outside,  and  knew  it  for  a  footstep. 

"W'stl"  said  a  voice.     "W'st— Whitmore !" 


255 


CHAPTEK  XIX 

CHECKMATE  ! 

ME.  ROGEES'S  attitude  stiffened  with  mock 
terror.  So  natural  was  it  that  I  cowered  back 
under  the  bed.  He  closed  the  valise  with  a 
snap  as  a  heel  grated  on  the  window  ledge  and 
George  Leicester  dropped  into  the  room. 

"Wh-ew!  So  that's  why  you  couldn't  hear 
an  old  friend's  signal!  Bolting,  were  you? 
No,  no,  my  pretty  duck — pay  first,  if  you 
please." 

"Take  it,  then!" 

Mr.  Rogers  swung  round  on  him  and  smote 
him  full  on  the  mouth — a  neat  blow  and  beau- 
tifully timed.  The  man  went  down  like  an  ox, 
his  head  striking  the  floor  with  a  second  thud 
close  beside  my  hiding-place. 

Miss  Belcher  ran  from  her  curtain,  clapping 
her  hands.  But  Mr.  Rogers  had  not  finished 
with  his  man. 

256 


CHECKMATE ! 

'''Shut  the  window!"  he  commanded,  fling- 
ing himself  forward  and  gripping  Leicester's 
hands  as  they  clutched  at  the  carpet.  "Here, 
youngster — pass  the  straps  yonder  and  hold 
on  to  his  legs !" 

The  blow  had  so  rattled  Leicester — had  come 
so  very  near  to  smiting  him  senseless — that  he 
scarcely  struggled  whilst  we  bound  him,  truss- 
ing him  like  a  fowl,  with  the  aid  of  Miss 
Belcher's  riding-crop,  which  she  obligingly 
handed.  He  was  not  a  pretty  object,  with  his 
mouth  full  of  blood  and  two  of  his  teeth 
knocked  awry,  and  we  made  him  a  ludicrous 
one.  Towards  the  end  of  the  operation  he  be- 
gan to  spit  and  curse. 

"Gently,  my  lad/7  Mr.  Kogers  turned  him 
over.  "You  came  here  to  settle  up,  and  we 
don't  mean  to  disappoint  you.  Let's  see  what 
you're  worth."  He  plunged  a  hand  into  Leices- 
ter's breeches  pocket  and  drew  forth  a  coin  or 
two. 

"Let  me  alone,  you — thief !"  roared  Leices- 
ter, his  voice  coming  back  to  him  in  full 
strength. 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Kogers,"  the  Hector  protested, 
"this  is  going  too  far,  I  doubt." 
257 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

"It's  funny  work  for  a  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
I'll  own,"  he  answered,  with  a  grin  at  Miss 
Belcher.  "Lydia,  my  dear,  be  so  good  as  to 
bring  one  of  those  candles;  I  want  to  have  a 
look  at  these  coins  .  .  .  Ah,  I  thought  so !" 

"Put  that  money  back  where  you  found  it !" 

snarled  Leicester.  "By  ,  I  don't  know 

what  you're  after,  but  I'll  have  the  law  on  you 
for  this  evening's  work !" 

"All  in  good  time,  my  friend ;  you  shall  have 
as  much  law  as  you  like,  and  a  trifle  over.  See, 
Rector?"  Mr.  Rogers  pointed  to  a  scratch  on 
the  face  of  one  of  the  coins. 

Leicester  began  to  smell  danger.  "What's 
wrong  with  the  money  ?"  he  demanded.  Then 
as  no  one  answered,  "There's  nothing  wrong 
with  it,  is  there?"  he  asked. 

"Depends  where  you  got  it,  and  how,"  he 
was  answered. 

"Look  here — you're  not  treating  me  fair," 
urged  the  rogue,  changing  his  tone.  "If  it's 
over  the  money  you're  knocking  me  about  like 
this,  you're  maltreating  an  innocent  man;  for 
I  had  it  from  Parson  Whitmore — every 
penny." 

"Ah,  if  you  can  prove  that" — Mr.  Rogers's 
258 


CHECKMATE ! 

face  was  perfectly  grave — "you're  a  lucky 
man,  or  else  a  very  unlucky  one  indeed.  The 
Reverend  Mr.  Whitmore  has  disappeared." 

The  scoundrel's  face  was  a  study.  Miss 
Belcher  turned  to  the  window  to  hide  a  smile, 
and  even  the  Rector  was  forced  to  pull  his  lip. 

"Disappeared/'  Mr.  Rogers  repeated,  "and 
not  mysteriously.  The  unfortunate  part  of 
the  business  is  that  before  leaving  he  made  no 
mention  of  any  money  actually  paid  to  you. 
On  the  contrary,  we  gathered  that  for  some  rea- 
son or  other  he  owed  you  a  considerable  sum 
which  he  found  a  difficulty  in  paying.  Let  me 
see — "  he  looked  around  on  us  as  if  for  con- 
firmation— "the  sum  was  fifty  pounds,  if  I 
mistake  not?  We  found  it  difficult  to  guess 
how  he,  a  priest  in  Holy  Orders,  came  to  owe 
you  this  substantial  amount.  But  perhaps 
you  met  him  on  his  way,  and  these  guineas  in 
my  hand  were  tendered  as  part  payment?" 

George  Leicester  blinked.  Accustomed  to 
play  with  the  fears  of  others,  he  understood 
well  enough  the  banter  in  Mr.  Roger s's  tone, 
and  that  he  was  being  sauced  in  his  own  sauce. 
He  read  the  menace  in  it  too.  But  what  could 
he  answer? 

259 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

"I  had  the  money  from  Whitmore,"  he  re- 
peated, doggedly. 

"When?" 

"That  I'll  leave  you  to  find  out."  He  laughed 
a  short  laugh  between  rage  and  derision. 
"Gad !  you've  a  fair  stock  of  impudence  among 
you !  First  you  assault,  half -kill  me  and  tie 
me  up  here  without  a  penn'orth  of  reason 
given,  and  now  you're  inviting  me  to  walk  into 
another  trap — for  all  I  can  learn,  merely  be- 
cause it  amuses  you.  It  won't  do,  my  fine  Jus- 
tice-fellow; and  that  you'll  discover  as  soon  as 
I  get  out  of  this." 

"The  question  is  important,  nevertheless.  I 
may  tell  you  that  at  one  time  or  another  these 
coins  were  in  the  possession  of  the  Jew,  Rodri- 
guez, who  was  found  murdered  in  Southside 
Street,  Plymouth,  yesterday  morning.  You 
perceive  therefore  that  something  depends  on 
when  and  how  you  came  by  them.  Still,  since 
you  prefer — and  perhaps  wisely — to  keep  your 
knowledge  to  yourself,  I'll  start  by  making  out 
the  warrant  and  we'll  have  in  the  constables." 
Mr.  Rogers  stepped  towards  the  bureau. 

"Wh — "  Leicester  attempted  a  low  whistle, 
260 


CHECKMATE ! 

but  his  mouth  hurt  him  and  he  desisted.  An 
ugly  grin  of  comprehension  spread  over  his  face 
— of  comprehension  and,  at  the  same  time,  of 
relief.  "That  explains,"  he  muttered;  "but 
where  did  he  find  the  pluck  ?" 

"Eh?"  Mr.  Eogers,  in  the  act  of  seating 
himself  by  the  bureau,  had  caught  the  tone  but 
not  the  words.  As  he  slewed  round  with  the 
query  I  heard  another  sound  in  the  adjoining 
room. 

"Oh,  go  ahead  with  your  warrant,  my  Jes- 
samy  Justice !  It  tickles  you  and  don't  hurt 
me.  Shall  I  help  you  spell  it  ?" 

"I  was  thinking  to  ask  you  that  favour,"  Mr. 
Rogers  replied,  demurely.  "Your  name,  now  ?" 

"Letcher  --  L-e-t-c-h-e-r  —  Sergeant,  North 
Wilts  Eegiment." 

"Thank  you — 'Letcher,'  you  say?  Now  I 
was  on  the  point  of  writing  'Leicester.' ' 

In  the  dead  silence  that  followed  he  laid 
down  his  pen,  and  with  his  hands  behind  him 
came  slowly  across  the  room  and  stared  into 
Leicester's  face. 

"The  game  is  up,  my  friend." 

Leicester  met  the  stare,  but  his  jaw  and 
throat  worked  as  though  he  were  choking.  I 
261 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAEEY    REVEL 

thought  he  was  trying  to  answer.  If  so,  the 
words  refused  to  come. 

Someone  knocked  at  the  door. 

Mr.  Eogers  stepped  to  it  quickly.  "That 
you,  Jim  3" 

"Yessir." 

"Is  Miss  Brooks  with  you?"  He  held  the 
door  a  very  little  ajar — not  wide  enough  to  give 
sight  of  us  behind  him. 

" Yessir.  A  gentleman  too,  sir ;  leastways  he 
talks  like  one,  though  dressed  like  a  private 
soldier.  He  won't  give  his  name."  Jim's  tone 
was  an  aggrieved  one. 

"Thank  you;  that's,  quite  right.  You  may 
go  home  to  bed,  if  you  wish;  but  be  ready  for 
a  call.  I  may  want  you,  later  on." 

"Be  this  all  you  want  of  me  ?"  Jim  was 
evidently  disappointed. 

"I  fear  so." 

"P'rhaps  you  don't  know  it,  sir,  but  Hodg- 
son's gone.  There  was  nobody  at  the  gate  when 
we  came  by." 

"Hodgson  has  a  little  job  on  hand.  It  will 
certainly  occupy  him  all  night,  but  I  am  afraid 
you  cannot  help  him.  Now  don't  stay  asking 
262 


CHECKMATE ! 

questions,  my  man,  but  be  off  to  bed.  I'll  send 
word  if  I  want  your  services." 

Jim  grumbled  and  withdrew.  "Best  to  get 
him  out  of  the  way,"  Mr.  Rogers  explained  to 
the  Rector.  "You  and  I  can  take  this  fellow 
back  to  Plymouth  at  daybreak."  He  listened 
for  a  moment  and  announced,  "He's  gone. 
Keep  an  eye  on  our  friend,  please,  while  I  pre- 
pare Isabel  for  it.  My  word !" — and  he  heaved 
a  prodigious  sigh — "I'd  give  something  to  be 
through  with  the  next  ten  minutes !" 

He  opened  the  door  and,  passing  through, 
closed  it  as  quickly  behind  him.  He  was  absent 
for  half  an  hour  perhaps.  We  could  hear  the 
mutter  of  his  voice  in  the  next  room  and  now 
and  again  another  masculine  voice  interrupting 
— never  Isabel's.  The  Rector  had  found  a  seat 
for  Miss  Belcher  beside  the  bureau.  He  him- 
self took  his  stand  beside  the  chimney  and  fin- 
gered a  volume  of  the  register,  making  pretence 
to  read  but  keeping  his  eye  alert  for  any  move- 
ment of  Leicester's.  ~No  one  spoke;  until  the 
prisoner,  intercepting  a  glance  from  Miss 
Belcher,  broke  into  a  sudden  brutal  laugh. 

"Poor  old  lady!"  he  jeered,  and  his  eyes 
263 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAKEY   REVEL 

travelled  wickedly  across  the  disordered  floor. 
"Whitmore  left  a  lot  behind  him,  eh  ?" 

She  rose  and,  turning  her  back  on  him, 
walked  to  the  window.  Then  she  leaned  out, 
seeming  to  study  the  night ;  but  I  saw  that  her 
shoulders  heaved. 

The  Rector  looked  across  with  a  puzzled 
frown.  Leicester  laughed  again,  and  with  that 
Miss  Belcher  came  back  to  him,  slipped  out  the 
riding-crop  which  trussed  him,  and  held  it 
under  his  nose.  Her  face  was  white,  but  calm. 
She  lifted  the  stick  slowly  to  bring  it  across  his 
face,  paused,  and  flung  it  on  the  floor. 

"You  tempt  me  to  be  as  dirty  as  yourself," 
she  said.  "But  one  woman  has  shown  you 
mercy  to-night,  despising  you.  Think  of  that, 
George  Leicester." 

The  door  opened  again  and  Mr.  Rogers 
nodded  to  us. 

"Hullo!"  he  exclaimed,  perceiving  the  rid- 
ing-crop on  the  floor. 

"He  can't  run/'  said  Miss  Belcher  noncha- 
lantly. "But  he  can  stand  now,  I  fancy — and 
walk,  if  you  loosen  his  legs  a  bit.  He'll  be 
wanted  for  a  witness,  won't  he  ?" 

"You're  all  wanted."  Mr.  Rogers  helped 
264 


CHECKMATE ! 

Leicester  to  stand  and  slackened  the  bond 
about  his  ankles.  "We'll  tighten  it  again  in 
the  next  room,  my  friend.  Stay  a  moment, 
Sector!" 

He  pointed  to  the  wardrobe.  The  Rector 
went  to  it  and  unhitching  a  clean  surplice  laid 
it  across  his  arm.  So  we  filed  into  the  room 
where  Isabel  and  Archibald  Plinlimmon  await- 
ed us. 

They  stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  window-cur- 
tains, talking  together  in  low  tones,  and  by 
their  attitudes  she  was  vehemently  pleading 
for  a  favour  which  he  as  vehemently  rejected. 
But  when  she  caught  him  by  both  hands  he 
yielded,  and  they  faced  us  together — she  with 
her  beautiful  face  irradiated. 

Miss  Belcher  stepped  to  her  at  once  and 
kissed  her,  and  across  that  good  lady's  shoulder 
she  cast  one  look  at  the  prisoner,  now  being 
shuffled  into  the  room  by  Mr.  Eogers.  It  was 
neither  vindictive  nor  recriminatory,  but  cheer- 
ful and  calm  with  an  utter  scorn.  I  looked 
nervously  at  Archibald  Plinlimmon.  His  face 
was  dusky  red  and  sullen  with  rage,  but  I  noted 
with  a  leap  of  my  heart  that  he  too  looked 
Leicester  squarely  in  the  face,  and  from  that 
265 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

moment  (if  a  boy  may  say  so)  I  felt  there  was 
hope  for  him. 

The  Rector  unfolded  and  donned  the  sur- 
plice. Isabel  disengaged  herself  from  Miss 
Belcher's  arms  and;  drawing  off  her  ring, 
handed  it  to  her  lover.  Their  eyes  met,  and 
hers  were  smiling  bravely;  but  they  brimmed 
on  a  sudden  as  the  tears  sprang  into  his.  And 
now  I  felt  that  there  was  strong  hope  for  him. 

Thus  I  came  to  be  present  at  their  wedding. 
Indeed,  Mr.  Rogers  kept  so  close  an  eye  on  his 
prisoner  during  the  ceremony  that  you  might 
almost  say  I  attended  as  groom's  man. 


CHAPTER   XX 


WHEN  all  was  over,  and  the  book  signed,  Isa- 
bel walked  across  to  Mr.  Rogers  and  held  out 
her  hand. 

"You  have  been  a  good  friend  to  me  to-night. 
God  Avill  surely  bless  you  for  what  you  have 
done."  She  paused,  with  heightened  colour. 

Mr.  Rogers  awkwardly  stammered  that  he 
hoped  she  wouldn't  mention  it.  But  if  the 
speech  was  inadequate,  his  action  made  up  for 
it.  He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it  respect- 
fully. It  seemed  that  she  had  more  to  say. 
"I  have  still  another  favour  to  ask/'  she  went 
on.  "I  have  heard  since  that  a  good  woman 
always  keeps  some  tenderness  for  an  honest 
man  who  has  once  wooed  her,  however  decid- 
edly she  may  have  said  'no.' '  Isabel's  smile 
was  at  once  tender  and  anxious,  but  it  drew  no 
response  from  Mr.  Rogers,  who  had  let  drop 
her  fingers  and  stood  now  with  eyes  uncom- 
fortably averted. 

267 


ADVENTUEES    OF    HAKEY   EEVEL 

"I  want  a  wedding  gift,"  said  she. 

"Eh?"  He  turned  a  flushed  face  and  per- 
ceived that  she  was  pointing  at  Leicester. 

"I  want  this  man  from  you.  Will  you  give 
him  to  me  ?" 

"For  what?" 

"You  shall  see."  She  knelt  at  the  prisoner's 
feet  and  began  to  unbuckle  the  strap  about  his 
ankles — shrinking  a  little  at  first  at  the  touch 
of  him,  but  more  resolutely  as  she  conquered 
her  disgust. 

Mr.  Rogers  put  down  a  hand  to  prevent  her. 

"You  never  mean  to  set  him  free  ?" 

"That  is  what  I  ask,"  answered  she,  desist- 
ing, but  with  an  upturned  look  of  appeal. 

"My  dear  Miss  Brooks,"  he  said,  inadvert- 
ently using  her  maiden  name,  "I  am  sorry — 
no,  that's  a  lie — I  am  jolly  glad  to  say  that  it 
can't  be  done." 

"Why?  Against  whom  else  has  he  sinned, 
to  injure  them?" 

"Against  a  good  many,  even  if  we  put  in  on 
that  ground  only.  Besides,  he'll  have  to  answer 
another  charge  altogether." 

"What  charge  ?" 

"Of  having  murdered  the  Jew,  Rodriguez. 
268 


ISABEL'S   KEVENGE 

Did  I  not  tell  you  that  we  found  marked  money 
in  his  pocket  ?" 

aBut  he  never  took  that  money  from  Mr. 
Rodriguez  ?" 

Mr.  Rogers  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "That's 
for  him  to  prove." 

"But  we  know  he  did  not,"  Isabel  insisted, 
and  turned  to  me.  "He  never  took  that  money 
from  Mr.  Rodriguez?" 

"No,"  said  I;  "it  was  given  him  last  night 
by  Mr.  Whitmore,  in  Miss  Belcher's  shrub- 
bery." 

"He  is  not  guilty  of  this  murder?" 

"No,"  said  I  again,  "I  think  not;  indeed 
I  am  sure  he  did  not."  I  glanced  at  Archibald 
Plinlimmon,  who  had  been  standing  with  eyes 
downcast  and  gloomy  studying  the  dim  pattern 
of  the  carpet  at  his  feet.  He  looked  up  now; 
his  face  had  grown  resolute. 

"No,"  he  echoed,  in  a  strained  voice;  "he 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  murder." 

"Why,  what  on  earth  do  you  know  ?"  cried 
Mr.  Rogers,  and  Isabel  too  bent  back  on  her 
knees  and  gazed  on  him  amazedly. 

"I  was  there." 

"Where,  in  Heaven's  name?" 


AD  VENTURES  OF  HAEEY  REVEL 

"On  the  roof,  outside  the  garret.  I  looked  in 
and  saw  the  body  lying." 

"You  were  on  the  roof — you  looked  in  and 
saw  the  body — "  Mr.  Rogers  repeated  the 
words  stupidly,  automatically,  searching  for 
speech  of  his  own.  "Man  alive,  how  came  you 
on  the  roof  ?  What  were  you  doing  there  ?" 

"We  were  billeted  three  doors  away — "  said 
Archibald,  and  paused.  "I  can  tell  you  no 
more  just  now." 

"We?" 

"That  man  and  I."  He  pointed  at  Leicester. 

"And  you  looked  in — what  else  did  you  see  ?" 
Mr.  Rogers's  voice  was  sharp. 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"The  murderer  ?" 

"No ;  not  the  murderer,"  he  answered,  slowly. 

"Then  what?     Whom?" 

"I  have  said  that  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"But  he  can,  sir !"  I  cried,  recklessly.  "He 
saw  me.  I  had  just  found  the  body  and  was 
standing  beside  it  when  he  looked  in."  I 
stopped,  panting.  It  seemed  as  if  all  the 
breath  in  me  had  escaped  for  the  moment  with 
my  confession. 

Mr.  Rogers  turned  from  me  to  Archibald. 
270 


ISABEL'S    KEVENGE 

"I  did  not  think  him  guilty.  I  did  not  know 
what  to  think.  And  it  was  he  who  helped  me 
to  get  away." 

"Why  should  he  help  you  to  get  away  ?" 

"I  will  tell  that — but  not  to  you.  I  will  tell 
it  to  my  wife." 

Isabel  had  risen  from  her  knees.  She  went 
to  him  and  would  have  taken  his  hand.  "Not 
yet,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Rogers  eyed  the  Rector  in  despair.  But 
the  Rector  merely  shook  his  head. 

"But,  confound  it  all !  Where's  the  murderer 
in  all  this?" 

"Sakes  alive!  Isn't  that  as  clear  as  day- 
light?" interjected  Miss  Belcher.  "Didn't  I 
let  him  out  of  window  more  than  an  hour  ago  ? 
And  isn't  Hodgson  foundering  my  mare  at  this 
moment  in  chase  of  him  ?  See  here,  Jack,"  she 
went  on,  judicially,  "you've  played  one  or  two 
neat  strokes  to-night;  but  one  or  two  neat 
strokes  don't  make  a  professional.  You'll  have 
to  give  up  this  justicing.  You've  no  head  for 
it." 

"Indeed?"  retorted  Mr.  Rogers.  "Then 
since  it  seems  you  see  deeper  into  this  business 
than  most  of  us,  perhaps  you'll  favour  us  with 

your  advice." 

271 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAREY   REVEL 

"With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,  my  son,"  said 
the  lady.  "I  can  see  holes  in  a  ladder:  but  I 
don't  look  deep  into  a  brick  wall,  for  the  reason 
I  don't  try.  There's  some  secret  between  Mr. 
Plinlimmon  and  this  boy.  What  it  is  I  don't 
know  and  you  don't  know ;  and  I've  yet  to  dis- 
cover that  'tis  any  business  of  ours.  All  I  care 
to  hear  about  it  is  that  Mr.  Plinlimmon  means 
to  tell  his  wif e,  for  which  I  commend  him.  Now 
you  don't  propose  to  make  out  a  warrant  against 
him,  I  take  it  ?  As  for  the  boy,  he's  done  us 
more  services  to-night  than  we  can  count  on  our 
fingers;  he's  saved  more  than  one  and  more 
than  two  of  us  here,  let  alone  five  couples  mar- 
ried by  Whitmore  in  the  four  months  he  was 
curate.  Reckon  them  in,  please,  and  their  chil- 
dren to  come.  Ah,  my  dear/'  she  laid  a  hand 
on  Isabel's  shoulder,  "I  know  what  I'm  speak- 
ing of !  He  has  ended  a  scandal  for  the  Rector 
and  in  time  for  the  mischief  to  be  repaired.  He 
has  even  saved  that  dirty  scoundrel  there,  if  it 
helps  a  man  on  judgment  day  that  his  villainies 
have  miscarried.  Well  then,  what  about  the 
boy  ?  There's  a  hue  and  cry  after  him,  but  you 
can't  give  him  up.  Let  alone  the  manner  of 
your  meeting  him — that  business  of  the  bon- 
272 


ISABEL'S    REVENGE 

fire — and  a  pretty  tale  'twould  make  against 
a  Justice  of  the  Peace " 

"I  never  gave  that  a  thought,  Lydia,"  Mr. 
Rogers  protested. 

"I  know  you  didn't,  my  lad;  that's  why  I 
mentioned  it.  Well,  letting  that  alone,  how  are 
you  to  give  the  child  up?  You  can't.  You 
know  you  can't.  We've  to  hide  him  now, 
though  it  cost  your  commission.  Eh?  To  be 
sure  we  must.  Give  him  up?  Pretty  grati- 
tude indeed,  and  what  next,  I  wonder !" 

'"I  never  thought  of  giving  him  up." 

"I  know  you  didn't,  again ;  but  I'm  combing 
out  your  brains  for  you,  if  you'll  only  stand 
quiet  and  not  interrupt.  Keep  your  mind 
fixed  on  Whitmore.  Whitmore's  your  man. 
If  Hodgson  catches  him " 

"If  Hodgson  catches  him,  he'll  be  charged 
with  the  murder.  I've  the  warrant  in  my 
pocket.  Then  how  are  we  to  hide  the  boy,  or 
keep  any  silence  on  what  has  happened  here  to- 
night?" 

"Ye  dunderhead!"     Miss  Belcher  stamped 

her  foot.    "What,  in  the  name  of  fortune,  have 

we  to  do  with  the  murder  ?    If  Hodgson  catches 

him,  he'll  be  charged  with  forging  the  Bishop's 

273 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

licence ;  that  is  to  say  with  a  crime  he's  already 
confessed  to  you.  If  you  want  to  hang  him, 
that'll  do  it.  You  don't  want  to  hang  him  twice 
over,  do  you  ?  And  I  don't  reckon  he'll  be  so 
anxious  to  be  hanged  twice  that  he'll  confess 
to  a  murder  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  If  you 
say  nothing,  he'll  say  nothing.  Upon  my  word, 
you  seem  to  have  that  Jew  on  the  brain ! — Who 
made  out  the  warrant?" 

"I,  of  course." 

"Then  keep  it  in  your  pocket ;  and  when  you 
get  home,  burn  it.  It  beats  me  to  think  why 
you  can't  let  that  murder  alone.  Rodriguez 
was  no  friend  of  yours,  was  he?  You  can't 
bring  him  to  life  again,  can  you  ?  And  what's 
your  evidence?  A  couple  of  marked  coins. 
Barring  us  few  here,  who  knows  of  them? — 
^Nobody.  Barring  us  few  here,  who  knows  a 
whisper  beside,  to  connect  Whitmore  with  the 
murder  ? — Nobody  again.  Very  well  then ;  you 
came  here  to-night  to  expose  Whitmore  as  a 
false  priest  and  a  forger,  on  the  evidence  of 
this  boy  and  what  he  heard  in  my  verandah. 
You  took  the  villain  on  the  hop,  and  he  con- 
fessed; so  the  boy's  evidence  is  not  needed. 
Having  confessed,  he  made  his  escape.  You 
274 


ISABEL'S   KEVENGE 

can  say,  if  you  will,  that  I  helped  him.  That's 
all  you  need  remember,  and  what  more  d'ye 
want  ?  It's  odds  against  Hodgson  catching 
him.  It's  all  Lombard  Street  to  a  china  orange 
against  his  bothering  you,  if  caught,  with  any 
plea  but  guilty." 

She  ceased,  panting  with  her  flow  of  words. 

"Well,  but  about  this  Leicester  ?"  Mr.  Bogers 
objected. 

"What  about  him  ?  Let  him  go.  Isabel  was 
right  in  begging  him  off — though  you  did  it, 
my  dear,  for  other  reasons  than  mine ;  but  when 
the  heart's  right,  God  bless  you,  it  usually 
speaks  common  sense.  Let  him  go.  D'ye  want 
to  hang  him?  He's  ugly  enough,  but  I  don't 
see  how  you're  to  do  it  on  any  other  grounds, 
unless  first  of  all  you  catch  Whitmore  and  then 
force  him  to  turn  cat-in-the-pan,  at  the  risk 
of  his  talking  too  much  and  with  the  certainty 
of  dragging  Isabel  into  the  exposure.  Even  so, 
I  doubt  you'll  get  evidence.  This  man  is  a  deal 
too  shrewd  to  have  done  any  of  the  forging 
himself.  If  Whitmore  had  known  enough  to 
hang  him,  Whitmore  wouldn't  have  gone  in 
awe  of  him.  And  what  Whitmore  don't  know, 
Whitmore  can't  tell." 

275 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

All  this  while  the  prisoner  had  kept  absolute 
silence;  had  stood  motionless,  except  that  his 
eyes  turned  from  one  speaker  to  another,  and 
now  and  then  seemed  to  seek  Archibald  Plin- 
limmon's — who,  however,  refused  to  return  the 
look.  But  now  he  twisted  his  battered  mouth 
into  something  like  an  appreciative  grin. 

"Bravo,  madam !"  said  he.  "You've  the  wits 
of  the  company,  if  you'll  take  my  compli- 
ments." 

"I  misdoubt  they're  interested  ones,"  she 
answered,  drily,  and  so  addressed  herself  again 
to  Mr.  Rogers.  "Let  the  man  go ;  you've  drawn 
his  sting.  If  ever  he  opens  his  mouth  on  to- 
night's work,  we've  a  plum  or  two  to  pop  into 
it.  If  Mr.  Plinlimmon  chooses  to  take  him  at 
the  door  and  horsewhip  him,  I  say  nothing 
against  it.  Indeed,  he's  welcome  to  the  loan  of 
my  hunting-crop." 

"But  no,"  put  in  Isabel,  quickly,  and  knelt 
again;  "my  husband  will  not  hurt  where  I 
have  pardoned."  Rapidly  she  unloosed  the 
strap  about  Leicester's  ankles  and  stood  up. 
"Now  hold  out  your  hands,"  she  said. 

He  held  them  out.     She  looked  him  in  the 
face,  and  a  sudden  tide  of  shame  forced  her  to 
276 


ISABEL'S    KEVENGE 

cover  her  own.  In  the  silence  her  husband 
stepped  to  her  side.  His  eyes  were  steady  upon 
Leicester  now. 

"How  could  you  ?  How  could  you  ?"  she 
murmured. 

Then,  dragging — as  it  were — her  hands  down 
to  the  task,  she  unbuckled  the  strap  around  his 
wrist,  and  pointed  to  the  door. 

Said  Miss  Belcher,  "So  two  women  have 
shown  you  mercy  to-night,  George  Leicester." 

He  went,  without  any  swagger.  His  face  was 
white.  Miss  Belcher  and  the  Rector  drew  back 
as  though  he  carried  a  disease,  and  let  him  pass. 
At  the  door  he  turned  and  his  eyes,  with  a  kind 
of  miserable  raillery  in  them,  challenged  Arch- 
ibald Plinlimmon. 

"Yes,  you  are  right."  The  young  man  took 
a  step  towards  him.  "Between  us  two  there  is 
a  word  to  be  said."  He  turned  on  us  abruptly. 
"I  have  been  afraid  of  that  man — yes,  afraid. 
To  say  this  out,  and  before  Isabel,  costs  me 
more  courage  than  to  thrash  him.  Through  fear 
of  him  I  have  been  a  villain.  Worse  wrong 
than  I  did  to  my  wife — worse  in  its  conse- 
quences— I  could  not  do;  you  know  it,  all  of 
you;  and  I  must  go  now  and  tell  it  to  her 
277 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

father.  I  did  it  unknowingly,  by  this  man's 
contrivance ;  but  not  in  any  fear  of  him.  What 
I  did  in  fear,  and  knowingly,  was  worse  in 
another  way — worse  in  intention.  I  tell  you 
that  but  for  an  accident  I  might — I  might 
have — "  He  stammered  and  came  to  a  halt. 
"No,  I  cannot  tell  it  yet/'  he  muttered,  half 
defiantly,  with  a  shy  look  at  the  Rector.  "But 
this  I  can  tell" — and  his  voice  rose — "that  no 
fear  of  him  stays  me.  You  ?  I  have  your  se- 
cret now.  You  have  none  of  mine  I  dare  not 
meet.  You  may  go;  you  have  my  wife's  par- 
don, it  seems.  I  do  not  understand  it,  but  you 
have  mine — with  this  caution.  You  are  my 
superior  officer.  If  to-morrow,  outside  of  the 
ranks,  you  dare  to  say  a  word  to  me,  I  promise 
to  strike  you  on  the  mouth  before  the  regiment, 
and  afterwards  to  tell  the  whole  truth  of 
us  both,  and  take  what  punishment  may  be- 
fall." 

So  he  too  pointed  toward  the  door.  Leicester 
bowed  and  went  from  us  into  the  night. 

"That's  all  very  well,"  groaned  Mr.  Eogers, 
"but  I'll  have  to  resign  my  commission  of  the 
peace." 

"If  it's  retiring  from  active  service  you 
278 


ISABEL'S    EEVENGE 

mean,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  cheerfully,  "that's 
what  I  began  by  advising.  But  stick  to  the 
title,  Jack;  you  adorn  it — indeed  you  do.  And 
for  my  part,"  she  wound  up,  "I  think  you've 
done  mighty  well  to-night,  considering." 

"I've  let  one  villain  escape,  you  mean,  and 
t'other  go  scot  free." 

"And  the  nuisance  of  it  is,"  said  she,  with  a 
broadening  smile,  "I  sha'n't  be  able  to  congrat- 
ulate you  in  public." 

"Well" — Mr.  Kogers  regained  his  cheerful- 
ness as  he  eyed  his  knuckles — "we've  let  a  deal 
of  villainy  loose  on  the  world,  but  I  got  in  once 
with  the  left,  and  that  must  be  my  consolation. 
What  are  we  to  do  with  this  boy  ?" 

"Hide  him." 

"Easier  said  than  done." 

"Not  a  bit."  Miss  Belcher  turned  to  me. 
"Have  you  any  friends,  boy,  who  will  be  worry- 
ing if  we  keep  you  a  few  days  ?" 

"None,  ma'am,"  said  I,  and  thereby  in  my 
haste  did  much  injustice  to  the  excellent  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Trapp. 

"Eh?  You  have  the  world  before  you? 
Then  maybe  you're  luckier  than  you  think,  my 
lad.  What  would  you  like  to  be?  A  sailor, 
279 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

now?  I  can  get  you  shipped  across  to  Guern- 
sey to-morrow,  if  you  say  the  word." 

"That  would  do  very  well,  ma'am;  but  if 
you  ask  me  to  choose " 

"I  do." 

"Then  I'll  choose  to  be  a  soldier,"  said  I, 
stoutly. 

"IFm.     You'll  have  to  grow  to  it." 

"I  could  start  as  a  drummer,  ma'am."  The 
drum  in  Major  Brooks' s  summer-house  had  put 
that  into  my  head. 

"My  father  can  manage  it,  I  am  sure !"  cried 
Isabel.  "And  meanwhile  let  him  come  back  to 
the  cottage.  No  one  will  think  of  searching  for 
him  there ;  and  to-night,  when  I  have  spoken  to 
my  father " 

"You  will  speak  to  your  father  to-night  ?" 

Isabel  glanced  at  her  bridegroom,  who 
nodded.  "To-night,"  said  he,  firmly.  "We 
sail  to-morrow." 

Miss  Belcher  wagged  her  head  at  him.  "I 
had  my  doubts  of  you,  young  man.  You've 
been  a  fool;  but  I've  a  notion  you'll  do,  yet." 

"Good-night,  then!"  Isabel  went  to  her  and 
held  up  her  cheek  to  be  kissed. 

"Eh?  Not  a  bit  of  it!  I'm  coming  with 
280 


ISABEL'S    KEVENGE 

you.  Don't  stare  at  me  now — I've  a  word  to 
say,  and  I  think  maybe  'twill  help." 

We  left  the  Rector  and  Mr.  Rogers  to  their 
task  of  overhauling  the  house  while  they  sat  up 
on  the  chance  of  Hodgson's  returning  with 
Whitmore  or  with  news  of  him;  and  trooped 
up  the  lane  and  down  across  the  park  to  Min- 
den  Cottage. 

"Take  the  child  to  bed/'  said  Miss  Belcher, 
as  we  reached  the  door;  and  so  to  my  room 
Isabel  conducted  me ;  the  others  waiting  below. 

She  lit  my  candles  and  kissed  me.  "You 
won't  forget  your  prayers  to-night,  Harry? 
And  say  a  prayer  for  me;  I  shall  need  it, 
though  I  have  more  call  to  thank  God  for 
sending  you." 

A  minute  later  I  heard  her  tap  on  her 
father's  door.  He  was  awake  and  dressed,  ap- 
parently— for  it  seemed  at  any  rate  but  a  mo- 
ment later  that  her  voice  was  guiding  his  blind 
footsteps  by  whispers  down  the  stairs.  Had  I 
guessed  more  of  the  ordeal  before  her,  my  eyes 
had  closed  less  easily  than  they  did.  As  it  was, 
I  tumbled  into  bed  and  slept  almost  as  soon  as 
my  head  touched  the  pillow. 

I  had  forgotten  to  blow  out  the  candles,  and 
281 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

they  were  but  half  burnt,  yet  extinguished, 
when  I  awoke  from  a  dream  that  Isabel  was 
kneeling  beside  me  in  their  dim  light  to  find 
her  standing  at  the  bed's  foot  in  a  fresh  print 
gown  and  the  room  filled  again  with  sunshine. 
Her  eyes  were  red.  Poor  soul !  she  had  but  an 
hour  before  she  said  good-bye  to  Archibald; 
and  Spain  and  its  battlefields  lay  before  him, 
and  between  their  latest  kiss  and  their  next — if 
another  there  might  be.  Yet  she  smiled  brave- 
ly, telling  me  that  all  was  well,  and  that  her 
father  would  be  ready  for  me  in  the  summer- 
house. 

Major  Brooks,  when  I  found  him  there, 
made  no  allusion  to  the  events  of  the  night. 
His  face  was  mild  and  grave  as  at  our  first 
meeting.  At  the  sound  of  my  footsteps  he 
picked  up  his  Virgil  and  motioned  me  to  be 
seated. 

"Let  me  see,"  he  began;  "liquidi  fortes, 
was  it  not  ?" — and  forthwith  began  to  dictate 
at  his  accustomed  pace. 

"  But  willing  springs  and  spongy  moss  supply, 
And  through  the  grass  a  streamlet  fleeting  by. 
The  porch  with  palm  or  oleaster  shade — 
That  when  its  gilded  youth,  in  spring  parade, 

282 


ISABEL'S    REVENGE 

Follow  their  regents  jollily  and  prank, 

To  cool  their  holiday  heat  a  neighbour  bank 

May  lean  with  branches  hospitably  cool. 

And  midway,  by  your  water  stream  or  pool, 

Cross  willow-twigs  and  massy  pebbles  fling — 

A  line  of  stations  for  the  halting  wing 

To  dry  in  summer  sunshine,  has  it  shipped 

A  cap  of  the  wave  or  deep  in  Neptune  dipped. 

Plant  cursias  green  around,  thyme  redolent, 

Full-flowering  succory  with  heavy  scent, 

And  violet-beds  to  drink  the  channeled  stream. 

And  let  your  hives  (sewn  concave,  seam  to  seam, 

Of  cork  ;  or  of  the  supple  osier  twined) 

Have  narrow  entrances  ;  for  frosts  will  bind 

Honey  as  hard  as  dog-days  run  it  thin  : 

In  bees'  abhorrence  each  extreme's  akin. 

Not  purposeless  they  vie  with  wax  to  paste 

Their  narrow  cells  and  choke  the  crannies  fast 

With  pollen  or  that  gum  specific  which 

Out-binds  or  birdlime  or  Idean  pitch  ' ' 

— and  so  on,  and  so  on,  until  midday  arrived, 
and  Isabel  with  the  claret  and  biscuits.  She 
lingered  while  he  ate;  and  when  he  had  done 
he  shut  his  Virgil,  saying  (in  a  tone  which, 
though  studiously  kind,  told  me  that  she  was 
not  wholly  forgiven) — 

"Take  the  drum,  Isabel,  and  give  the  lad  his 
first  lesson.  It  will  not  disturb  me." 

She  choked  down  a  sob,  passed  the  drum  to 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAERY    REVEL 

me,  and  put  the  drumsticks  into  my  hands. 
And  so  by  signs  rather  than  by  words,  she  be- 
gan to  teach  me,  scarcely  letting  me  tap  the 
vellum  but  instructing  me  rather  how  to  hold 
the  sticks  and  move  my  wrists.  So  quiet  were 
we  that  the  old  man  by-and-by  dropped  asleep ; 
and  then,  as  she  taught,  her  tears  flowed. 

This  was  the  first  of  many  lessons,  for  I 
spent  a  full  fortnight  at  Minden  Cottage,  free 
of  its  ample  walled  garden,  but  never  showing 
my  face  in  the  high  road  or  at  the  windows 
looking  upon  it.  I  learned  from  Isabel  that 
Whitmore  had  not  been  found,  and  that  Archi- 
bald and  his  regiment  had  sailed  for  Lisbon. 
Sometimes  Miss  Belcher  or  Mr.  Rogers  paid  us 
a  visit,  and  once  the  two  together;  and  always 
they  held  long  talks  with  the  Major  in  his 
summer-house.  But  they  never  invited  me  to 
be  present  at  these  interviews. 

So  the  days  slipped  away  and  I  almost  forgot 
my  fears,  nor  speculated  how  or  when  the  end 
would  come.  My  elders  were  planning  this  for 
me,  and  meanwhile  life,  if  a  trifle  dull,  was 
pleasant  enough.  What  vexed  me  was  the  old 
man's  obdurate  politeness  towards  Isabel,  and 
her  evident  distress.  It  angered  me  the  more 
284 


ISABEL'S    REVENGE 

that,  when  she  was  not  by,  he  gave  never  a  sign 
that  he  brooded  on  what  had  befallen,  but  went 
on  placidly  polishing  his  petty  and  (to  me) 
quite  uninteresting  verses. 

But  there  came  an  evening  when  we  finished 
the  Fourth  Georgic  together — 

"  Of  tillage,  timber,  herds,  and  hives,  thus  far 
My  trivial  lay — while  Caesar  thunders  war 
To  deep  Euphrates,  conquers,  pacifies, 
Twice  wins  the  world  and  now  attempts  the  skies. 
Pardon  thy  Virgil,  if  Parthenope 
Meantime  entranced  a  lover  who  on  thee 
Whilom  his  boyish  pastoral  pipe  essayed, 
—Thee,  Tityrus,  beneath  the  beeches'  shade." 

He  closed  the  book. 

"Lord  Wellington  is  not  a  Caesar/7  he  said, 
and  paused,  musing;  then,  in  a  low  voice, 
"Parthenope  —  Parthenope  —  and  to-morrow 
'Arms  and  the  Man.'  Boy,"  said  he,  sharply, 
"we  do  not  translate  the  ^Eneid." 

"No,  sir?" 

"Mr.  Rogers  calls  for  you  to-night.  A  draft 
of  the  52nd  Eegiment  sails  from  Plymouth  to- 
morrow. You  will  find,  when  you  join  it  in 
Spain  that — that  my  son-in-law" — he  hesitated 
and  spoke  the  word  with  a  certain  prim  delib- 
285 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

erateness — "has  been  gazetted  to  an  ensigncy 
in  that  gallant  regiment.  I  may  tell  you  that 
he  owes  this  to  no  intervention  of  mine,  but 
solely  to  the  generosity  of  Miss  Belcher.  Be- 
fore departing — I  will  do  him  so  much  justice 
—he  spoke  to  me  very  frankly  of  his  past,  and 
for  my  daughter's  sake  and  his  father's  I  trust 
that,  as  under  Providence  you  were  an  instru- 
ment in  averting  its  consequences,  so  you  may 
sound  him  yet  to  some  action  which,  whether 
he  lives  or  falls,  may  redeem  it.  Mr.  Rogers 
will  sup  with  us  to-night.  If  I  mistake  not,  I 
hear  his  wheels  on  the  road."  He  drew  him- 
self up  to  his  full  height,  and  bowed.  "You 
have  done  a  service,  boy,  to  the  honour  of  two 
families.  I  thank  you  for  it,  and  shall  not 
omit  to  remember  you  daily  when  I  thank  God. 
Shall  we  go  in  ?" 


I  had,  as  I  said  just  now,  almost  forgotten 
my  fears  of  the  Law ;  but  that  the  Law  had  not 
relaxed  its  interest  in  me  was  evident  from  my 
friends'  precautions.  Night  had  fallen  before 
Mr.  Rogers  rose  from  table  and  gave  the  word 
for  departure,  and  after  exchanging  some 
286 


ISABEL'S   REVENGE 

formal  farewells  with  Major  Brooks,  and  some 
very  tender  ones  with  Isabel,  I  was  packed  in 
the  tilbury  and  driven  off  into  darkness  in 
which  the  world  seemed  uncomfortably  large 
and  vague  and  my  prospects  disconcertingly 
ill-lit. 

"D'ye  know  what  that  is  ?"  asked  Mr.  Bog- 
ers,  at  the  end  of  five  minutes,  pulling  up  his 
mare  and  jerking  his  whip  towards  a  splash  of 
white  beside  the  road. 

"No,  sir." 

He  pulled  a  rein,  and  brought  the  light  of 
the  off-side  lamp  to  bear  on  a  milestone  with  a 
bill  pasted  upon  it. 

A  full,  particular,  and  none  too  flattering 
description  of  you,  my  lad,  with  an  offer  of 
twenty  pounds.  And  I'm  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace!  Cl'k,  lass!" 

On  went  the  mare,  and  I,  who  had  been  feel- 
ing like  a  needle  in  a  bundle  of  hay,  now  shrank 
down  within  my  wraps  as  though  the  night  had 
a  thousand  eyes. 

We  reached  the  village  of  Anthony ;  and  here, 

instead   of  holding   on  for   Torpoint   and  the 

Ferry,  Mr.  Rogers  struck  aside  into  a  lane  on 

our  right,  so  steep  and  narrow  that  he  alighted 

287 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

and  led  the  mare  down,  holding  one  of  the 
lamps  to  guide  her  as  she  picked  her  steps. 

The  lane  ended  beside  a  sheet  of  water, 
pitch-black  under  the  shadow  of  a  wooded 
shore,  and  glimmering  beyond  it  with  the  re- 
flections of  a  few  stars.  Mr.  Rogers  gave  a 
whistle ;  a  soft  whistle  answered  him.  I  heard 
a  boat's  nose  grate  on  the  shingle  and  take 
ground. 

"All  right,  sergeant  ?" 

"Eight,  sir.     Got  the  boy?" 

"Climb  down,  Harry,"  whispered  Mr.  Rog- 
ers. "Shake  hands,  and  good  luck  to  you!" 

I  was  given  a  hand  over  the  bows  by  a  man 
whose  face  I  could  not  see.  The  boat  was  full 
of  men,  and  one  dark  figure  handed  me  to  an- 
other till  I  reached  the  stern-sheets. 

"Give  way,  lads!"  called  a  voice  beside  me, 
as  the  bow-man  pushed  us  off. 

We  were  travelling  fast  when  at  a  bend  of 
the  creek  a  line  of  lights  shot  into  view — in- 
numerable small  sparks  clustered  low  on  the 
water  ahead  and  shining  steadily  across  it.  I 
knew  them  at  once.  They  were  the  lights  of 

Plymouth  Dock. 

288 


ISABEL'S    EEVENGE 

"Where  are  you  taking  me?"  I  cried. 

"That's  no  question  for  a  soldier,"  said  a 
voice  which  I  recognised  as  the  sergeant's.  And 
one  or  two  of  the  crew  laughed. 


289 


CHAPTER  XXI 

I    GO    CAMPAIGNING    WITH    LORD    WELLINGTON 

THE  vessel  to  which  they  rowed  me  was  the 
Bute,  transport  bound  for  Portugal  with  one 
hundred  and  fifty  officers  and  men  of  the  52d 
Regiment,  one  hundred  and  twenty  of  the  third 
battalion  95th  Rifles,  and  a  young  cornet  and 
three  farriers  of  the  Tth  Light  Dragoons  in 
charge  of  fifty  remounts  for  that  regiment. 

We  weighed  anchor  at  daybreak  (the  date, 
I  may  mention,  was  July  28th),  and  cleared 
the  Sound.  At  ten  o'clock  or  thereabouts  the 
wind  fell,  and  for  two  days  and  nights  we 
drifted  aimlessly  about  the  Channel  at  the  will 
of  the  tides,  while  the  Sergeant — a  veteran 
named  Henderson,  who  had  started  twenty-five 
years  before  by  blowing  a  bugle  in  the  52nd, 
and  therefore  served  me  as  index  and  example 
of  what  by  patience  I  might  attain  to — filled 
the  most  of  my  time  between  sleep  and  meals 
with  lessons  upon  that  instrument.  From  a 
hencoop  abaft  the  mainmast  (the  Bute  was  a 
290 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

brig,  by  the  way)  I  blew  back  inarticulate  tare- 
wells  to  the  shores  receding  from  us  imper- 
ceptibly, if  at  all ;  and  so  illustrated  a  profound 
remark  of  the  war's  great  historian,  that  the 
English  are  a  bellicose  rather  than  a  martial 
race,  and  by  consequence  sometimes  find  them- 
selves committed  to  military  enterprises  with- 
out having  counted  the  cost  or  made  complete 
preparation. 

On  the  third  day  the  wind  freshened  and 
blew  dead  foul,  decimating  the  horses  with  sea- 
sickness (we  lost  five  on  the  voyage),  prostrat- 
ing three-fourths  of  the  men,  and  shaking  the 
two  regiments  down  into  a  sociability  which 
outlasted  their  sufferings.  To  be  sure  my 
comrades  of  the  52nd  (as,  with  a  fearful  joy 
I  named  them  to  myself  in  secret),  being  vete- 
rans for  the  most  part,  recovered  or  recovering 
from  wounds  taken  in  the  land  to  which  they 
were  returning  with  common  memories  of  Sir 
John  Moore,  of  Benevente,  Calcabelbos,  and 
Corunna,  treated  the  riflemen  with  that  affable 
condescension  which  was  all  that  could  be 
claimed  by  third  battalion  youngsters  with  all 
their  soldiering  before  them.  But  the  52nd 
knew  the  95th  of  old ;  and,  veterans  and  youths, 
291 


ADVENTURES   OF   HARRY   REVEL 

were  they  not  bound  to  be  enrolled  together  in 
that  noble  Light  Division,  the  glory  of  which 
was  already  lifting  above  the  horizon,  soon  to 
blaze  across  heaven? 

Sergeant  Henderson  did  not  suffer  from  sea- 
sickness. For  no  reward — unless  it  be  the  fierce 
delight  of  tackling  a  difficulty  for  its  own  sake 
—he  had  sworn  to  make  a  bugler  of  me,  given 
moderately  bad  weather ;  and  when  the  evening 
of  September  brought  us  off  the  coast  of  Portu- 
gal, he  allowed  me  to  shake  hands  over  his  suc- 
cess. Early  next  morning  we  began  to  disem- 
bark at  a  place  called  Figueira,  by  the  mouth 
of  the  Mondego  River.  I  stepped  ashore  with  a 
swelling  heart. 

But  I  carried  also  a  portentously  swollen 
under  lip,  with  a  crack  in  it  which  showed 
signs  of  festering.  Now  there  was  a  base  hos- 
pital at  Figueira,  to  the  surgeon  in  charge  of 
which  fell  the  duty  of  inspecting  the  men  as 
they  landed  and  detaining  those  who  were  sick 
or  physically  unfit.  I  need  not  say  that  his 
eye  was  arrested  at  once  by  my  unfortunate  lip. 
He  examined  it. 

"Blood  poisoning,"  he  announced.     "Nasty, 
if  not  attended  to.     Detained  for  a  week." 
292 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

He  saw  my  eyes  fill  with  tears  at  this  blow — 
the  more  cruel  because  quite  unexpected,  and 
added,  not  unkindly — 

"Eh?  What?  In  a  hurry?  Nevermind, 
my  lad — you'll  go  up  with  the  next  draft,  I 
dare  say.  Jericho  won't  fall  between  this  and 
then." 

I  was  young  then,  and  never  doubted  that 
even  so  slight  a  promise  must  be  remembered. 

Still,  that  my  merit  might  leave  him  no  ex- 
cuse for  forgetting,  I  determined  that  it  should 
not  escape  attention;  and  finding  myself  con- 
signed to  hospital  with  a  trifling  hurt  which  in 
no  way  interfered  with  my  activity,  and  being 
at  once  pounced  upon  by  an  overworked  and 
red-eyed  orderly  and  pressed  into  service  as 
emergency-man,  nurse,  and  general  bottle- 
washer  for  three  overcrowded  tents,  I  flung 
into  my  new  duties  a  zeal  which  ended  by  un- 
doing me.  Drummers  might  be  wanted  at  the 
front,  but  meanwhile  the  hospital  camp  was  un- 
doubtedly short-handed.  And  my  hopes  faded 
as,  with  the  approach  of  Christmas,  waggon 
after  waggon  laden  with  sick  soldiers  crawled 
back  to  us  from  the  low-lying  country  over 
which  Lord  Wellington  had  spread  his  forces 
293 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

between  the  Agueda  and  the  upper  Mondego — 
men  shuddering  with  ague  or  bent  double  with 
rheumatism,  and  all  bringing  down  the  same 
tales  of  short  food,  sodden  quarters,  and  arrears 
of  pay.  For  three  days,  they  told  me,  the  army 
had  gone  without  bread,  and  the  commissariat 
crawled  over  unthreatened  roads  at  the  pace  of 
five  miles  a  day.  They  cursed  the  war,  the 
Government  at  home,  above  all  the  Portuguese 
and  everything  in  Portugal;  and  yet  their 
hardships  seemed  to  me  heaven  in  comparison 
with  the  hospital  in  which — though  its  duties 
were  frequently  disgusting — I  had  plenty  to 
eat  and  nothing  to  complain  of  but  overwork. 

It  was  not  until  Christmas  that  I  won  my 
release,  and  by  a  singular  accident. 

It  happened  that  after  nightfall  on  the  23rd 
of  December  an  ambulance  train  arrived  of  six 
waggons,  all  full  of  sick  demanding  instant  at- 
tention; and  close  upon  these  four  other  wag- 
gons laden  with  cavalry  men,  wounded  more  or 
less  severely  in  a  foraging  excursion  beyond  the 
Agueda  which  had  brought  them  into  conflict 
with  a  casual  body  of  Marmont's  dragoons. 
The  weather  was  bitterly  cold;  the  men,  to 
begin  with,  were  unfit  for  so  long  a  journey 
294 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

and  should  have  been  attended  to  promptly  at 
their  own  headquarters.  To  make  matters 
worse,  one  of  the  waggons  had  been  overturned, 
six  miles  back,  on  the  frozen  road,  and  the  as- 
sistant surgeon,  who,  owing  to  the  seriousness 
of  the  job,  had  been  sent  down  in  attendance, 
lost  his  head  completely.  Three  of  the  poor 
fellows  had  succumbed  as  they  lay,  of  cold, 
wounds  and  exhaustion,  and  a  dozen  others 
were  in  desperate  case. 

Our  surgeons  went  to  work  at  once,  and  until 
midnight  I  attended  on  them,  preparing  the 
lint,  washing  the  blood-stained  instruments, 
changing  the  water  in  the  pails,  and  performing 
other  necessary  but  more  gruesome  tasks  which 
I  need  not  particularise.  At  midnight  the 
young  cavalry-surgeon,  who  had  been  freely 
dosed  with  brandy,  professed  himself  ready  to 
take  over  the  minor  casualties.  The  two  hos- 
pital surgeons,  by  this  time  worn  out,  accepted 
the  offer  and  withdrew.  ~No  one  thought  of 
me. 

I  understand  that  about  an  hour  later,  as  I 
sat  waiting  for  orders  on  the  edge  of  an  unoc- 
cupied bed  (from  which  a  dead  man  had  been 
carried  out  a  little  before  midnight),  I  must 
295 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAKEY   BEVEL 

have  dropped  across  it  in  a  sleep  of  utter  ex- 
haustion. It  appears  too  that  the  young  doctor, 
finding  me  there  a  short  while  after,  carried  me 
out  and  laid  me  on  the  ground  with  my  head 
against  the  hut.  He  never  admitted  this,  for 
I  had  been  attending  upon  him,  off  and  on, 
since  his  arrival,  and  that  he  failed  to  recognise 
me  might  have  been  awkwardly  accounted  for. 
But  I  cannot  believe  (as  certainly  I  do  not  re- 
member) that  of  my  own  motion  I  crawled  out- 
side the  hut  and  stretched  myself  on  the  frozen 
ground,  or  that,  exhausted  as  I  was,  I  could 
have  walked  ten  yards  in  my  sleep. 

At  all  events  the  chill  of  the  bitter  dawn 
awoke  me  there;  and  with  a  yawn  I  stretched 
out  both  arms — or  rather,  tried  to  stretch  them. 
At  once  I  knew  that  a  man  was  stretched  be- 
side me,  and,  still  dazed  with  sleep,  I  rolled 
over  on  to  my  right  elbow,  raised  myself  a  little 
and  peered  into  his  face. 

It  was  pinched  and  cold.  His  eyes  stared 
straight  up  at  the  dawn.  From  it  my  gaze 
travelled  slowly  over  the  faces  of  three  other 
men  laid  out  accurately  alongside  of  him,  feet 
to  feet,  head  to  head. 

I  sank  back,  not  yet  comprehending,  gazed 
296 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

up  at  the  grey  sky  for  a  while,  then  slowly 
raised  myself  on  my  left  elbow. 

On  that  side  lay  a  score  of  sleepers,,  all  flat 
on  their  backs,  and  all  equally  still.  Then  I 
understood  and  leaped  up  with  a  scream.  It 
was  a  line  of  corpses,  and  I  had  been  laid  out 
beside  them  for  burial  at  dawn. 

A  sleepy  orderly — a  friend  of  mine — poked 
his  head  out  of  the  doorway  of  the  next  hut. 
I  pointed  to  the  spot  where  I  had  been  lying. 

"They  must  ha'  done  it  in  the  dark,"  he  said, 
slowly  regarding  the  bodies. 

I  suppose  that  my  story,  getting  about  the 
camp,  must  have  penetrated  to  headquarters; 
for  on  Christmas  Day,  a  transport  arriving  and 
landing  some  light  guns  and  a  detachment  of 
artillery,  I  was  sent  forward  with  them  tow- 
ards Villa  del  Ciervo  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Agueda;  where,  by  all  accounts,  the  52nd  were 
posted. 

Our  battery  was  but  six  light  six-pounders, 
yet  even  with  these  we  moved  over  the  frozen 
and  slippery  roads  at  a  snail's  pace,  the  men 
tearing  their  boots  to  ribbons  as  they  hung  on 
to  the  drag-ropes — for  the  artillery  captain  was 
a  martinet  and  refused  to  lock  the  wheels,  de- 
297 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

claring  that  it  would  damage  the  carriages.  Of 
damage  to  his  men  he  never  seemed  to  think; 
and  I,  being  fool  enough  to  volunteer — though 
my  weight  on  the  rope  could  have  counted  for 
next  to  nothing — found  myself  on  the  second 
day  without  heels  to  my  shoes  and  without 
shoes  at  all  on  the  third.  Nor  is  it  likely 
that  I  had  ever  reached  the  Agueda  in  time  for 
the  fighting  had  we  not  been  met  at  Coimbra 
by  an  order  to  leave  our  guns  in  the  magazine 
there  and  hurry  forward  to  Ciudad  Rodrigo, 
where  my  comrades  were  required  to  work  the 
24-pounders  which  composed  the  bulk  of  Lord 
Wellington's  siege-train. 

Having  been  supplied  with  new  boots  from 
the  stores  in  Coimbra^  we  pushed  on  eastward 
through  torrents  of  rain  which  converted  every 
valley  bottom  into  a  quag,  so  that  our  march 
was  scarcely  less  arduous  than  before  and  the 
men  grumbled  worse  than  they  had  when  drag- 
ging the  guns  over  the  frozen  hill-roads.  They 
had  been  forced  to  leave  their  waggons  behind 
at  Coimbra,  and  marched  like  infantry  soldiers, 
each  man  carrying  a  haversack  with  four  days' 
provisions,  as  well  as  an  extra  pair  of  boots.  But 
what  semed  to  vex  and  deject  them  most  was  a 
298 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

rumour  that  Quartermaster-General  Murray 
had  been  sent  down  from  the  front  on  leave  of 
absence  for  England.  They  argued  positively 
that,  with  Murray  absent,  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  could  not  be  intending  any  action  of  im- 
portance; they  doubted  that  he  had  twenty 
siege-guns  at  his  call  even  if  he  stripped  Al- 
meida and  left  that  fortress  defenceless.  More- 
over, who  would  open  a  siege  in  such  a  country 
in  the  depth  of  such  a  winter  as  this  ? 

Nevertheless  we  had  no  sooner  passed  the 
bridge  of  the  Coa  than  we  discovered  our  mis- 
take, the  roads  below  Almeida  being  choked 
with  a  continuous  train  of  mule  transports,  and 
tumbrils,  light  carts  and  waggons  heaped  with 
fascines,  gabions,  long  balks  of  timber,  sheaves 
of  spades,  and  siege  implements — all  crawling 
southward.  My  artillerymen  were  now  halted 
to  await  and  take  charge  of  three  brass  guns 
said  to  be  on  their  way  down  from  Pintrel  un- 
der an  escort  of  Portuguese  militia;  and,  tak- 
ing leave  of  them,  I  was  handed  over  to  a  com- 
pany of  the  23rd  Regiment — hurrying  in  from 
one  of  the  outlying  hamlets  near  Celorico — 
with  whom  I  reached  on  the  7th  of  January 
the  squalid  villages  of  Boden,  in  and  around 
299 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAEKY   EEVEL 

which  the  52nd  lay  in  face  of  the  doomed  for- 
tress across  the  river. 

"Here,  then,  is  war  at  last/'  thought  I  that 
night  as  I  curled  myself  to  sleep  in  a  loft  where 
Sergeant  Henderson  considerately  found  a  cor- 
ner for  me  under  some  pathetically  empty  fowl- 
roosts.  Sergeant  Henderson  had  claimed  me  in 
his  captain's  absence  from  a  distracted  adju- 
tant who  wanted  to  know  where  the  devil  I  had 
come  from,  and  why,  and  if  I  would  kindly 
make  myself  scarce  and  leave  him  in  peace — a 
display  of  temper  pardonable  in  a  man  who 
had  just  come  in  wet  to  his  middle  from 
fording  the  river  amid  cannoning  blocks  of 
ice. 

Here  was  war  at  last,  and  I  was  not  long  in 
making  acquaintance  with  it.  I  awoke  to  find, 
by  the  light  of  the  lantern  swung  from  the  roost 
overhead,  the  dozen  men  in  the  loft  awake  and 
pulling  on  their  boots.  They  had  lain  in  their 
sodden  clothes  all  night;  but  of  their  boots,  I 
found,  they  were  as  careful  as  dandies,  and  to 
grease  them  would  hoard  up  a  lump  of  fat  even 
while  their  stomachs  craved  for  it.  Sergeant 
Henderson  motioned  me  to  pull  on  mine.  From 
my  precious  bugle  I  had  never  parted,  even  to 
300 


I    GO    CAMPAIGNING 

unsling  it,  since  leaving  Figueira.  And  so  I 
stood  ready. 

We  bundled  on  our  greatcoats,  climbed  down 
the  ladder,  and  filed  out  into  the  street  It 
was  dark  yet,  though  I  could  not  guess  the 
hour,  and  bitter  cold,  with  an  east  wind  which 
seemed  to  set  the  very  stars  shivering.  The  men 
stamped  their  feet  on  the  frozen  road  as  we 
hurried  to  the  alarm  post,  and  there  I  walked 
into  a  crowd  of  dark  figures  which  closed 
around  me  at  once.  For  a  moment  I  supposed 
the  whole  army  to  be  massed  there  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  wondered  foolishly  if  we  were  to  as- 
sault Ciudad  Rodrigo  at  once.  A  terrible  mur- 
mur filled  the  night — the  more  terrible  be- 
cause, while  the  few  words  spoken  were  idle 
and  jocular,  it  ran  down  the  jostling  crowd  into 
endless  darkness,  gathering  menace  as  it  went. 

But  the  sergeant,  gripping  my  shoulder,  or- 
dered me  gruffly  to  keep  close  beside  him,  and 
promised  to  find  me  my  place.  The  jostling 
grew  regular,  almost  methodical,  and  by-and- 
by  an  officer  came  down  the  road  carrying  a 
lantern,  spoke  with  Henderson  for  a  moment, 
and  at  a  word  from  him  the  men  began  to  num- 
ber off.  Far  up  the  road  other  lanterns  were 
301 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

moving  and  voices  calling.  Then  after  a  long 
pause,  on  the  reason  for  which  the  company 
speculated  in  whispers,  the  troops  ahead  began 
to  move  and  the  order  came  down  to  us — "Or- 
der arms — Fix  bayonets — Shoulder  arms!" — 
a  pause — "By  the  right,  quick  march  1" 

An  hour  later.,  still  in  darkness^  we  halted 
beside  the  Agueda,  while  company  after  com- 
pany marched  down  into  the  water.  A  body 
of  cavalry  had  been  drawn  across  the  upper 
edge  of  the  ford,  four  deep — the  horses'  bodies 
forming  a  barrier  against  the  swirling  blocks 
of  ice ;  and  under  this  shelter  we  crossed,  the 
water  rising  to  my  small  ribs  and  touching  my 
heart  with  a  shiver  that  I  recall  as  I  write. 
But  the  sergeant's  hand  was  on  my  collar  and 
steadied  me  over. 

"How  much  farther  ?"  I  made  bold  to  whis- 
per to  him,  as  we  groped  our  way  up  the  bank. 

"Three  miles,  maybe;  that's  as  the  crow 
flies.  But  you  mustn't  talk." 

And  not  another  word  did  I  say.  We  plodded 
on — not  straight  for  the  fortress,  the  distant 
lights  of  which  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  us — but 
athwart  and,  for  a  mile  or  more,  almost  away 
from  it.  By-and-by  the  road  began  to  climb; 
302 


I   GO    CAMPAIGNING 

and,  a  little  later,  we  had  left  it  and  were  cross- 
ing the  shoulder  of  a  grassy  hill  behind  which 
the  lights  of  Ciudad  Eodrigo  disappeared  from 
view. 

Here  the  dawn  overtook  us;  and  here  at 
length,  along  the  northern  slope  of  the  hill  and 
close  under  its  summit,  we  were  halted. 

Sergeant  Henderson  gave  a  satisfied  grunt. 

"Good  for  the  Division — the  One  and  Only !" 
he  remarked.  "Now,  for  my  part,  I'm  ready 
for  breakfast." 


303 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ON   THE    GKEATEK   TESSON 

I  TURNED  for  a  look  behind  us  and  below. 
At  the  foot  of  the  slope,  where  daylight  had 
just  begun  to  touch  the  dark  shadows,  stood  a 
line  of  mules — animals  scarcely  taller  than  the 
loads  they  carried,  which  a  crowd  of  Portu- 
guese had  already  begun  to  unpack;  and  al- 
ready, on  a  plateau  to  the  left  of  us,  half  a 
dozen  markers,  with  a  quartermaster,  were 
mapping  out  a  camp  for  the  52nd.  They  went 
to  work  so  deliberately,  and  took  such  careful 
measurements  with  their  long  tapes,  that  even 
a  tyro  could  no  longer  mistake  this  for  an  ordi- 
nary halt. 

I  looked  at  Sergeant  Henderson.  Word  had 
just  been  given  to  the  ranks  to  "stand  easy," 
and  he  returned  my  look  with  a  humorous 
wink. 

"That'll  do,  eh?"  He  nodded  towards  the 
markers. 

304 


ON    THE    GREATER    TESSON 

"What  does  it  mean  f '  I  asked. 

"It  means  that  we've  done  with  cold  baths, 
my  son,  and  may  leave  'em  to  the  other  divi- 
sions. What  else  it  means  you'll  discover  be- 
fore you  sleep."  He  glanced  up  at  the  ridge, 
towards  which  at  a  dozen  different  points  our 
sentries  were  creeping — some  of  them  escorted 
by  knots  of  officers — and  ducking  low  as  they 
neared  the  sky-line. 

"May  I  go  down  and  watch  ?"  I  asked  again, 
pointing  at  the  plateau;  for  I  was  young 
enough  to  find  all  operations  of  war  amusing. 

"Ay — if  you  won't  get  in  the  way  and  trip 
over  the  pegs.  I'll  be  down  there  myself  by- 
'n-by  with  a  fatigue-party." 

I  left  him  and  strolled  down  the  hill.  The 
morning  air  was  cold  and  the  turf,  here  on  the 
north  side  of  the  hill,  frozen  under  foot.  But 
I  felt  neither  hunger  nor  weariness.  Here  was 
war,  and  I  was  in  it! 

As  I  drew  near  the  plateau  a  young  officer 
came  walking  across  it  and,  halting  beside  the 
quartermaster,  held  him  in  talk  for  a  minute. 
He  wore  the  collar  of  his  greatcoat  turned  up 
high  about  his  ears,  but  I  recognised  him  at 
once.  It  was  Archibald  Plinlimmon. 
305 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

Leaving  the  quartermaster,  he  strolled  tow- 
ard the  edge  of  the  plateau,  hard  by  where  I 
stood;  halted  again,  and  gazed  down  through 
his  field-glasses  upon  the  muleteers  unloading 
beneath  us;  but  by-and-by  closed  his  glasses 
with  a  snap  and,  facing  round,  was  aware  of 
me. 

"Hullo !"  said  he,  as  I  saluted ;  but  his  voice 
was  listless,  and  I  thought  him  looking  wretch- 
edly ill.  "You're  in  Number  Four  Company, 
are  you  not  ?  I  heard  that  you'd  joined." 

It  struck  me  that  at  least  he  might  have 
smiled  and  seemed  glad  to  welcome  me.  He 
did  indeed  seem  inclined  to  say  something 
more,  but  hesitated  and  fumbled  as  he  slipped 
back  the  glasses  into  their  case. 

"Are  they  looking  after  you?"  he  asked. 

I  told  him  of  the  sergeant.  "But  are  you 
well,  sir  ?"  I  made  bold  to  ask. 

He  put  the  question  aside.  "Henderson's  a 
good  man,"  he  said;  "I  wish  we  had  him  in 
our  company.  Ah,"  he  broke  off,  "they  won't 
be  long  pitching  tents  now !" 

He  swung  slowly  on  his  heel  and  left  me, 
at  a  pace  almost  as  listless  as  his  voice.  I  felt 
hurt,  rebuffed.  To  be  sure,  he  was  an  officer 
306 


ON   THE    GREATER    TESSON 

now,  and  I  a  small  bugler;  still,  without  com- 
promising himself,  he  might  (I  felt)  have 
spoken  more  kindly. 

The  fatigue-party  descended,  the  tents  were 
brought  up  and  distributed,  and  at  a  silent  sig- 
nal sprang  up  like  lines  of  mushrooms  and  ex- 
panded. The  camp  was  formed;  and  the  52nd, 
in  high  good  humour,  opened  their  haversacks 
and  fell  to  their  breakfast. 

The  meal  over,  the  men  lit  their  pipes  and 
stretched  themselves  within  the  tents  to  make 
up  arrears  of  sleep.  It  does  not  take  a  boy 
long  to  learn  how  to  snatch  a  nap,  even  on  half- 
thawed  turf  packed  with  moisture,  and  to  man- 
age it  without  claiming  much  room.  We  were 
eleven  in  our  tent,  not  counting  the  sergeant — 
who  had  gone  off  on  some  errand  which  he  did 
riot  explain,  but  which  interested  the  men 
enough  to  keep  them  awake  for  a  while  dis- 
cussing it  in  low  voices. 

I  was  at  once  too  shy  to  ask  questions  and 
too  sleepy  to  listen  attentively.  Here  was  war, 
I  told  myself,  and  I  was  in  it.  To  be  sure,  I 
had  not  yet  seen  a  shot  fired  and — save  for  the 
infrequent  boom  of  a  gun  beyond  the  hill — I 
had  heard  none;  and  yet  all  my  ideas  of  war 
307 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

were  undergoing  a  change.  My  uppermost 
sense — odd  as  it  may  seem — was  one  of  infinite 
protection.  It  seemed  impossible  that,  with  all 
these  cheerful  men  about  me,  joking  and  swear- 
ing, I  could  come  to  much  harm.  It  surprised 
me,  after  my  months  of  yearning  and  weeks  of 
tramping  to  reach  this  army,  to  discover  how 
little  my  presence  was  regarded  even  in  my 
own  regiment.  The  men  took  me  for  granted, 
asking  no  questions.  I  might  have  strolled  in 
upon  them  out  of  nowhere,  with  my  hands  in 
my  pockets.  And  the  officers,  it  appeared, 
were  equally  incurious.  Captain  Lockhart, 
commanding  the  company,  had  scarcely  flung 
me  a  look.  The  colonel  I  had  not  seen;  the 
adjutant  had  dismissed  me  to  the  devil;  and 
Archibald  Plinlimmon  had  treated  me  as  I 
have  told.  All  this  indifference  contained  much 
comfort.  I  began  to  understand  the  restfulness 
of  a  great  army — a  characteristic  left  clean  out 
of  account  in  a  boy's  imaginings,  who  thinks 
of  war  as  a  series  of  combats  and  brilliant  per- 
sonal efforts,  at  once  far  more  glorious  and 
more  terrifying  than  the  reality. 

So  I  dreamed,  secure,  until  awakened  by  my 
comrades'  voices  lifted  all  together  and  all  ex- 
308 


ON    THE    GKEATEK    TESSON 

citedly  questioning  Sergeant  Henderson,  whose 
head  and  shoulders  intruded  through  the  flap- 
way. 

"Light  Company  and  Number  3,"  he  was 
announcing. 

"Blasted  favouritism!"  swore  the  man  next 
to  me.  "Ain't  there  no  other  battalion  com- 
pany in  the  regiment,  that  Number  3's  been 
picked  for  special  twice  now  in  four  days  ?" 

"The  Major's  sweet  on  'em,  that's  why," 
snarled  another. 

"I  ain't  saying  nothing  against  the  bobs. 
But  what's  the  matter  with  us,  I'd  like  to 
know  ?  Why  Number  3  again  ?  Ugh,  it  makes 
me  sick!" 

"Our  fun'll  come  later,  lads/'  said  the  ser- 
geant, cheerfully.  "When  you  reach  my  years 
you'll  have  learned  to  wait.  Now,  if  you'd 
asked  me,  I'd  have  chosen  the  grenadiers; 
they're  every  bit  as  good  as  a  light  company 
for  this  work." 

"Ay — grenadiers  and  Number  4.  Why  not? 
It's  cruel  hard." 

I  asked,  in  my  ignorance,  what  was  happen- 
ing. My  neighbour  turned  to  me  with  a  grin — 

"Happening?  Why,  you've  a-lost  your 
309 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

chance  of  death  or  victory,  that's  all.  Here 
you  are,  company  bugler  for  twenty-four  hours 
by  the  grace  of  Heaven  and  the  sergeant's  con- 
trivance, and  because  everyone's  forgot  you  and 
because,  as  it  happens,  for  twenty-four  hours 
there's  no  bugling  wanted.  To-morrow  you'll 
be  found  out  and  sent  back  to  the  band,  where 
there's  five  supernumeraries  waiting  for  your 
shoes.  And  the  bandmaster'll  cuff  your  head 
every  day  for  months  before  you  get  such  an- 
other chance.  Whereas,  if  Number  4  Com- 
pany had  been  chosen  for  to-night,  by  to-mor- 
row you'd  have  blown  the  charge,  and  half  the 
drummers  in  the  regiment  would  be  blacking 
your  eyes  out  of  envy.  See  ?" 

I  did  not,  very  clearly.  "Is  there  to  be  an 
attack  to-night  ?"  I  asked.  "And  sha'n't  we 
even  see  it?" 

"Oh  yes,  we'll  see  it  fast  enough.  I  reckon 
they  won't  go  so  far  as  to  grudge  us  free  seats 
for  the  show." 

Sure  enough,  at  eight  o'clock,  we  formed  up 
by  companies  and  were  marched  over  the  dark 
crest  of  the  hill  and  a  short  way  down  it  in 
face  of  the  lights  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  Right 
below  us  on  our  left  shone  a  detached  light. 
310 


ON   THE    GREATER    TESSON 

We  ourselves  showed  none.  The  word  for  si- 
lence in  the  ranks  had  been  given  at  starting, 
and  the  captains  spoke  in  the  lowest  of  voices 
as  they  drew  their  companies  together  in  bat- 
talions. The  light  cavalry  having  been  with- 
drawn, we  found  ourselves  on  the  extreme  left 
flank,  parted  by  a  few  yards  only  from  another 
dark  mass  of  men — the  43rd,  as  a  tallish  young 
bugler  whispered  close  beside  me. 

"But  how  the  doose  do  you  come  here?"  he 
went  on,  mistaking  me  in  the  darkness,  I  sup- 
pose, for  one  of  the  youngsters  in  the  band. 

"Shut  your  head,  bugler,"  commanded  a 
corporal  close  on  my  right. 

The  men  grounded  arms  and  waited,  their 
breath  rising  like  a  fog  on  the  frozen  air. 
Their  two  tall  ranks  made  a  wall  before  us, 
shutting  out  all  view  of  the  lights  in  the  valley. 
The  short  or  supernumerary  line  of  non-com- 
missioned officers  on  our  right  stood  motionless 
as  a  row  of  statues. 

Suddenly  a  rocket  shot  up  from  below, 
arched  its  trail  of  light,  and  exploded;  and  on 
the  instant  the  whole  valley  answered  and  ex- 
ploded below  us.  Between  the  detonations  a 
cheer  rang  up  the  hillside  and  was  drowned  in 
311 


ADVENTUKES    OF    HAEEY   EEVEL 

the  noise  of  musketry — as  under  a  crackle  of 
laughter.  Forgetting  discipline,  I  crawled 
forward  three  paces  and  tried  to  peer  between 
the  legs  of  the  rank  in  front,  but  was  haled  back 
by  the  ear  and  soundly  cursed.  The  musketry 
crackled  on  without  intermission.  Away  in 
Ciudad  Rodrigo  the  walls  seemed  to  open  and 
vomit  fireworks,  shell  after  shell  curving  up 
and  dropping  into  the  valley. 

"Glory  be !"  cried  someone,  "the  old  man's 
done  it !  The  Johnnies  wouldn't  be  shelling 
their  own  works." 

"Ah,  be  quiet  with  ye,"  answered  an  Irish 
voice ;  "and  the  fun  not  ten  minutes  old !" 

"He's  done  it,  I  say!  Whist  now,  see  yon- 
der— there's  Elder  going  down  with  his  Greas- 
ers. Heh?  What  did  I  tell  you?" 

"Silence  in  the  ranks !"  commanded  an  offi- 
cer, but  his  own  voice  shook  with  excitement, 
and  we  read  that  he  believed  the  news  to  be 
true. 

"Arrah  now,  sir,"  a  man  in  the  front  rank 
wheedled  softly,  "it's  against  flesh  and  blood 
you're  ordering  us." 

"Wait  a  moment,  then.     They've  done  it,  I 
believe — but  no  cheering,  mind !" 
312 


ON    THE    GEEATEE    TESSON 

What  had  been  done  was  this —  From  the 
summit  of  the  hill  where  we  stood  we  looked 
into  Ciudad  Rodrigo  over  a  lesser  hill,  and 
between  these  two  (called  the  Great  and  the 
Lesser  Tesson)  the  French  had  fortified  and 
palisaded  a  convent  and  built  a  lunette  before 
it,  protecting  that  side  of  the  tower  where  the 
ground  was  least  rocky,  and  could  be  worked 
by  the  sappers.  Upon  the  lunette  before  this 
Convent  of  San  Francisco,  Colborne  (our  colo- 
nel of  the  52d)  had  now  flung  himself,  with 
two  companies  from  each  of  the  Light  Division 
regiments,  and  carried  it  with  a  rush ;  and  this 
feat,  made  possible  by  our  night  march  across 
the  Agueda  and  the  negligence  of  the  French 
sentries,  in  its  turn  gave  the  signal  for  the  siege 
to  open.  The  place  was  scarcely  carried  before 
Elder  had  his  Portuguese  at  work  spading  a 
trench  to  the  right  of  it  and  under  what  cover 
its  walls  afforded  from  the  artillery  of  the  town, 
which  ceased  not  all  night  to  pound  away  at  the 
lost  redoubt. 

The  cagadores — seven  hundred  in  all — toiled 

with  a  will  under  shot  and  shell;   and  when 

day  broke  a  trench  three  feet  deep  and  four 

wide  had  been  opened  and  pushed  for  no  less 

313 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

than  six  hundred  yards  toward  the  town  !  Next 
night,  the  Portuguese  were  replaced  by  the 
First  Division,  which  had  been  marched  over 
the  Aguela.  While  the  Light  Division  cooked 
and  enjoyed  itself  on  Mount  Tesson,  the  others 
had  to  cross  and  recross  the  river  between  their 
work  and  their  quarters;  and  I  fear  that  we 
took  their  misfortunes  philosophically,  feeling 
that  our  luck  was  deserved.  To  be  sure  I  had 
been  taken  from  my  company  and  relegated  to 
the  band ;  but  during  the  twelve  days  the  siege 
lasted  there  was  always  a  call  for  boys  to  watch 
the  explosions  from  the  town  and  warn  the 
workmen  when  a  shell  was  coming ;  and,  on  the 
whole,  since  Ciudad  Rodrigo  contained  plenty 
of  ammunition  and  did  not  spare  it,  I  enjoyed 
myself  amazingly. 

On  the  night  of  the  9th,  while  the  First  Divi- 
sion dug  at  the  trenches,  our  men  helped  with 
the  building  of  three  counter-batteries  a  little 
ahead  of  the  convent;  and  because  the  French 
guns  began  to  make  our  hill  uncomfortable  we 
shifted  camp  and  laid  a  shallow  trench  from  it, 
along  which  we  could  steal  to  work  under  fair 
cover.  On  the  10th  the  Fourth  Division  took 
314 


OX    THE    GREATER.  TESSON 

over  the  siege  trenches,  and  on  the  llth  the 
Third  Division  relieved;  on  the  12th  came  our 
turn. 

The  day  breaking  with  a  thick  fog,  Lord 
Wellington  determined  to  profit  by  it  and 
hurry  on  the  digging,  which  the  bitter  frost  was 
now  miserably  impeding.  To  him,  or  to  some- 
one, it  occurred  that  by  scooping  pits  in  front 
of  the  trenches  our  riflemen  (the  95th)  might 
give  ease  to  the  diggers  by  picking  off  the 
enemy's  gunners.  And  with  this  object  we 
were  hurried  down  in  force  to  take  up  the  work 
as  the  Third  Division  dropped  it. 

Now  I  knew  the  North  Wilts  to  belong  to 
this  Division,  and  it  had  occurred  to  me  on  the 
way  down  that  as  likely  as  not  I  might  run 
across  Leicester.  And  keeping  a  sharp  look- 
out as  his  regiment  filed  forth  from  the  trench, 
I  spied  him  before  he  caught  sight  of  me.  He 
recognised  me  at  once;  but  instead  of  passing 
with  a  scowl  (as  I  had  expected)  he  treated 
me  to  a  grin  as  nearly  humorous  as  his  sallow 
face  allowed,  and  came  to  a  halt. 

"D'ye  know  who's  in  there  ?"  he  asked,  jerk- 
ing his  thumb  back  towards  Ciudad  Rodrigo. 
315 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAERY   REVEL 

"No,  sir/'  I  answered,  scarcely  grasping  the 
question,  but  quaking  as  this  man  always  made 
me  quake. 

"Thought  you  mightn't.  Well  then,  our 
friend  is  in  there." 

"Our  friend  ?"  I  echoed.     "Who  ?" 

"Whitmore."  His  grin  became  ferocious 
now.  "We  have  him,  now — have  him  sure 
enough,  this  time — eh  ?" 

But  how  on  earth  could  Mr.  Whitmore  have 
come  in  Ciudad  Rodrigo?  Leicester  read  the 
question  in  my  eyes,  and  answered  it,  pushing 
his  face  close  to  mine  in  the  fog: 

"He's  a  deserter.  If  the  river  don't  come 
down  in  flood,  we'll  have  him  sure  enough. 
And  it  won't;  you  mark  my  words!  Two  or 
three  days  of  flood  would  let  up  Marmont  upon 
us  and  spoil  everything.  But  this  weather's 
going  to  hold,  and — it's  a  bad  death  for  desert- 
ers," he  wound  up,  with  a  snarling  laugh. 

"Mr.  Whitmore  a  deserter  ?     But  how  ?" 

"Ah,  you've  come  to  the  right  man  to  ask. 
I  bear  you  no  grudge,  boy;  and  as  for  Plin- 
limmon — how's  he  doing,  by  the  way?" 

"I've  scarcely  seen  him  since  I  joined.     He 
passed  you  just  now,  didn't  he  ?" 
316 


ON    THE    GREATER   TESSON 

"Ay.  I  saw  him.  For  a  man  in  luck's  way, 
he  carries  a  queer  sort  of  face.  What's  wrong 
with  him?" 

"Nothing  wrong  that  I  know  of.  The  men 
reckon  him  a  good  officer,  too." 

"Well,  I'll  be  even  with  Master  Archibald 
yet.  You  hear  ?  But  about  Whitmore,  now — 
I  caught  up  with  him  in  Lisbon.  You  see, 
he'd  got  this  money  off  the  Jew  and  he  counted 
on  another  pocketful  from  that  Belcher  woman. 
He  always  was  a  devil  to  get  around  women, 
'specially  the  old  ones.  I  don't  know  if  you 
guessed  it,  that  night,  but  he'd  persuaded  the 
old  fool  to  run  off  and  marry  him.  Yes,  and 
meantime  he'd  taken  his  passage  in  one  of  the 
Falmouth  packets,  meaning  to  give  her  the 
slip — and  give  me  the  slip  too — as  soon  as  he'd 
laid  hands  on  her  purse.  Well,  you  headed 
him  off  that  little  plan,  and  to  save  his  skin, 
as  you  know,  he  rounded  on  me.  Now  what 
puzzles  me  is,  how  you  let  him  slip  ?" 

I  did  not  answer  this. 

"The  Belcher  woman  had  a  hand  in  it,   I 

reckon — eh?      Never   mind — don't    answer    if 

you'd  rather  not.     But  when  I  caught  up  with 

him,   he   didn't  escape   me;  that's  to   say,  he 

317 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

won't;  and  it'll  be  a  sight  worse  for  him  than 
if  he  hadn't  tried." 

He  paused  again,  and  laughed  to  himself  si- 
lently— a  laugh  unhealthy  to  watch. 

"I  came  on  him  in  Lisbon  streets/'  he  went 
on ;  "came  on  him  from  behind  and  put  a  hand 
on  his  shoulder.  He's  an  almighty  coward — 
that's  his  secret — and  the  way  he  jumped  did 
me  good.  'Recruit  for  the  North  Wilts/  said 
I.  He  turned  and  his  knees  caved  under  him. 
'Wha — What  do  you  mean  by  that?'  says  he" 
— and  here  Leicester  burlesqued  the  poor,  cold, 
stammering  knave  to  the  life — "  'Oh,  for  the 
Lord's  sake,  Leicester,  have  mercy  on  me  P 
'You'll  see  the  kind  of  mercy  you're  going  to 
get/  says  I;  'but  meantime  you've  a  choice  be- 
tween hanging  and  coming  along  to  join  the 
North  Wilts.'  'But  why  should  I  join  the 
North  Wilts  ?'  he  asked.  'Well,  to  begin  with/ 
I  said,  'you're  a  dreadful  coward,  and  there 
you'll  have  some  chance  to  feel  what  it's  really 
like.  And  what's  more,'  I  said,  'I'll  take  care 
you're  in  my  company,  and  I'm  going  to  live 
beside  you  and  give  you  hell.  I'm  going  to  eat 
beside  you,  sleep  beside  you,  march  beside  you ; 
and  when  things  grow  hot,  and  your  lily-white 
318 


ON    THE    GREATER    TESSON 

soul  begins  to  shiver,  I'll  be  beside  you  still — 
but  a  little  behind/  So  I  promised  him,  and, 
being  a  coward,  he  chose  it.  I  tell  you — I  kept 
my  word  too ;  it's  lucky  for  you,  boy,  that  I'm 
a  connoisseur  in  my  grudges.  But  Whitmore 
— he's  betrayed  me,  you  see.  Often  and  often 
I  had  him  alone  and  crying;  and  I  promised 
myself  to  be  behind  him  on  just  such  a  job  as 
we're  in  for — a  night  assault;  oh,  he'd  have 
enjoyed  that!  But  he  couldn't  stand  it.  At 
Celorico  he  gave  me  the  slip  and  deserted ;  and 
now  he's  in  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  yonder,  and  the 
trap's  closing,  and — what's  he  feeling  like, 
think  you  ?  Eh  ?  I  know  him ;  it'll  get  better 
and  better  till  the  end,  and — it's  a  bad  death 
for  deserters." 

He  paused,  panting  with  hate  and  coughing 
the  fog  out  of  his  lungs.  I  shrank  away  against 
the  wall  of  the  trench. 

"When  he's  done  with  I  won't  say  but  what 
I'll  turn  my  attention  to  you — or  to  Plinlim- 
mon.  You  know  what  Plinlimmon  was  after 
— that  morning — on  the  roof?  He  was  there 
to  steal." 

He  eyed  me. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  with  sudden  courage,  "he  was 
319 


ADVENTURES    OF   HAREY   REVEL 

there,  to  steal.  And  you  were  waiting  below,  to 
share  the  profits." 

He  fell  back  a  pace,  still  eyeing  me. 

"Fll  have  to  find  another  way  with  you  than 
with  Whitmore — that's  evident/'  he  said,  with 
a  short  laugh,  and  was  gone. 


320 


CHAPTEK  XXIII 

IN    CITJDAD    EODKIGO 

Two  days  later  our  breaching  batteries 
opened  on  the  town. 

It  is  not  for  me  to  describe  this  wonderful 
siege,  the  operations  of  which,  though  witness- 
ing them  in  part,  I  did  not  understand  in  the 
least.  I  have  read  more  than  one  book  about 
it  since,  and  could  draw  you  a  map  blindfold 
and  tell  you  where  the  counter-batteries  stood, 
and  where  the  lunette  which  Colborne  carried, 
and  how  it  stood  with  regard  to  the  Convent  of 
San  Francisco;  where  the  parallels  ran,  where 
the  French  brought  down  a  howitzer,  and  where 
by  a  sortie  they  came  near  to  cutting  up  a  divi- 
sion. I  could  trace  you  the  fausse  braye  and 
the  main  walls  and  put  my  fingers  on  the  angle 
where  our  guns  pierced  the  greater  breach,  and 
carry  it  across  to  the  tower  where,  by  the  lesser 
breach,  our  own  storming-party  of  the  Light 
Division  climbed  into  the  town.  I  saw  a  many 
321 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

things  shattered  during  the  next  five  days  to 
lay  the  foundations  of  a  fame  which  still  is 
proved  the  sounder  the  closer  men  examine  it 
— I  mean  Lord  Wellington's ;  and  in  the  end  I, 
Harry  Revel,  contributed  my  mite  to  it  in  a 
splintered  ankle.  I  understand  now  many 
things  which  were  then  a  mere  confused  hurly- 
burly  ;  and  even  now — having  arrived  at  an  age 
when  men  take  stock  of  themselves  and,  casting 
up  their  accounts  with  life,  cross  out  their  van- 
ities— I  am  proud  to  remember  that  along  with 
the  great  Craufurd,  Mackinnon,  Vaudeleur, 
Colborne,  our  colonel,  and  Napier,  I  took  my 
unconsidered  hurt.  To  this  day  you  cannot 
speak  the  name  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo  to  me 
but  I  hear  my  own  bugle  chiming  with  the  rest 
below  the  breaches  and  swelling  the  notes  of  the 
Advance,  and  my  heart  swells  with  it.  But  I 
tell  now  strictly  what  I  saw,  and  for  this  reason 
only — that  the  story  to  which  you  have  been 
listening  points  through  those  breaches, — and 
within  them  has  its  end. 

To  me,  watching  them  day  by  day  from  the 

hillside,  they  appeared  but  trifling  gaps  in  the 

fortifications.     On  the  19th  I  never  dreamed 

that  they  were  capable  of  assault ;  indeed  in  the 

322 


IN    CIUDAD    RODKIGO 

lesser  breach  to  the  left  my  inexpert  eyes  could 
detect  no  gap  at  all.  What  chiefly  impressed 
at  the  time  was  our  enemy's  superiority  in  am- 
munition. Their  guns  fired  at  least  thrice  to 
our  once. 

Still  holding  myself  strictly  to  what  I  said, 
I  can  tell  you  even  less  of  the  assault  itself.  I 
can  tell,  indeed,  how  on  the  evening  of  the  19th 
when  we  were  looking  forward  to  another  turn 
at  the  trenches  with  the  Third  Division,  Gen- 
eral Craufurd  paraded  us  unexpectedly;  and 
how,  at  a  nod  from  him,  Major  Napier  ad- 
dressed us.  "Men  of  the  Light  Division,"  he 
said,  "we  assault  to-night.  I  have  the  honour 
to  lead  the  storming-party,  and  I  want  a  hun- 
dred volunteers  from  each  regiment.  Those 
who  will  go  with  me,  step  forward." 

Instantly  the  battalions  surged  forward — 
the  press  of  the  volunteers  carrying  us  with 
them  as  if  we  would  have  marched  on  Ciudad 
Rodrigo  with  one  united  front. 

The  Major  flung  up  a  hand  and  turned  to 
General  Craufurd.  Their  eyes  met,  and  they 
both  broke  out  laughing. 

This  much  I  saw  and  heard.  And  when,  at 
six  o'clock,  they  marched  us  down  under  the 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAKRY    REVEL 

lee  of  San  Francisco,,  I  saw  Lord  Wellington 
ride  up,  dismount,  give  over  his  horse  to  an  or- 
derly, and  walk  past  our  column  into  the  dark- 
ness. He  was  going  to  give  the  last  directions 
to  Major  Napier  and  the  storming-party ;  but 
they  were  drawn  up  behind  an  angle  of  the 
convent  wall,  and  we,  the  supporting  columns, 
massed  in  the  darkness  two  hundred  yards  in 
the  rear,  neither  saw  the  conference  nor  caught 
more  than  the  low,  clear  tones  of  Craufurd  ad- 
dressing his  men  for  the  last  time. 

Then,  after  many  minutes  of  silence,  sud- 
denly the  sky  over  the  convent  wall  opened  with 
a  glare  and  shut  again,  and  we  heard  the 
French  guns  tearing  the  night.  The  attack  of 
the  Third  Division  on  our  right  had  begun,  and 
the  noise  of  it  was  taken  up  by  the  95th  Rifle- 
men, spread  wide  in  three  companies  to  scour 
the  fausse  braye  between  the  two  breaches  and 
keep  the  defenders  busy  along  it.  As  the  sound 
of  the  assault  spread  down  to  us,  interrupted 
again  and  again  by  the  explosions  of  shells,  we 
were  marched  forward  for  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  and  halted,  put  into  motion  and 
halted  again.  We  could  see  the  city  now,  open- 
ing and  shutting  upon  us  in  fiery  flashes;  and, 
324 


IN    CIUDAD    EODRIGO 

in  the  intervals,  jet  after  jet  of  fire  streamed 
from  the  rifles  on  our  right. 

Then  someone  shouted  to  us  to  advance  at 
the  double,  and  I  ran,  blowing  upon  my  bugle, 
for  now  the  calls  were  sounding  all  about  me. 
I  had  no  thought  of  death  in  all  this  roar — the 
crowd  seemed  to  close  around  and  shut  that  out 
— until  we  came  to  the  edge  of  the  ditch  facing 
the  fausse  braye;  and  by  that  time  the  worst 
of  the  danger  had  passed.  The  fausse  braye 
itself  was  dark,  and  the  darker  for  a  blaze  of 
light  behind  it.  Our  stormers  had  carried  it 
and  swept  the  defenders  back  into  the  true 
breach  beside  the  tower.  Some  stray  bullets 
splashed  among  us  as  we  toppled  down  the 
ditch  and  mounted  the  glacis — fired  from 
Heaven  knows  where,  but  probably  from  some 
French  retreating  along  the  top  of  the  fausse 
braye. 

While  we  were  mounting  the  glacis  Napier 
and  his  men  must  have  carried  the  inner  breach. 
At  the  top  we  thronged  to  press  through  the 
narrow  entrance,  for  all  the  world  like  a  crowd 
elbowing  its  way  into  a  theatre,  and  as  I  pressed 
into  the  skirts  of  the  throng  it  seemed  to  suck 
me  in  and  choke  me.  My  small  ribs  caved  in- 
325 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

wards  as  we  were  driven  through  by  the  weight 
of  men  behind.  The  pressure  eased  and  an  ex- 
plosion threw  a  dozen  of  us  to  earth  between 
the  fausse  braye  and  the  slope  of  rubble  by 
which  the  stormers  had  climbed. 

I  picked  myself  up — found  my  bugle — and 
ran  for  the  slope,  still  blowing.  A  man  of  the 
43rd  gave  me  a  hand  and  helped  me  up,  for  now 
we  were  stumbling  among  corpses.  What  had 
become  of  the  stormers  ?  Some  we  were  tram- 
pling under  foot ;  the  rest  had  swept  on  and  into 
the  town. 

"Fifty-second  to  the  left/'  said  my  friend, 
as  we  gained  the  top  of  the  rampart,  catching 
up  a  cry  which  now  sounded  everywhere  in  the 
darkness.  "Forty-third  to  the  right — Fifty-sec- 
ond to  the  left !"  I  turned  sharply  to  the  left 
and  ran  from  him. 

A  rush  of  men  overtook  me.  "This  way!" 
they  shouted,  swerving  aside  from  the  line  of 
the  ramparts  and  sliding  down  the  steep  inner 
slope  towards  the  town.  They  were  mad  for 
loot,  but  in  my  ignorance  I  supposed  them  to 
be  obeying  orders,  and  I  turned  aside,  and 
clambered  down  after  them. 

We  crossed  a  roadway  and  plunged  into  a 


IN    CITJDAD    RODRIGO 

dark  and  deserted  street  at  the  foot  of  which 
shone  a  solitary  lamp.  Then  I  learned  what 
my  comrades  were  after.  The  first  door  they 
came  to  they  broke  down  with  their  musket- 
butts.  An  old  man  was  crouching  behind  it; 
and,  dragging  him  out,  they  tossed  him  from 
one  to  another,  jabbing  at  him  with  their  bay- 
onets. I  ran  on,  shutting  my  ears  to  his 
screams. 

I  was  alone  now ;  and,  as  it  seemed,  in  a  for- 
saken town.  Here  and  there  a  light  shone  be- 
neath a  house-door  or  through  the  chinks  of  a 
shutter.  I  felt  that  behind  the  windows  I  passed 
Ciudad  Rodrigo  was  awake  and  waiting  for  its 
punishment.  Behind  me,  along  the  ramparts, 
the  uproar  still  continued.  But  the  town,  here 
and  for  the  moment,  I  had  to  myself;  and  it 
was  waiting,  trembling  to  know  what  my  re- 
venge would  be. 

I  came  next  to  a  small,  open  square,  and  was 
crossing  it  when  in  the  corner  on  my  right  a 
door  opened  softly,  showing  a  lit  passage  with- 
in, and  a  moment  later  was  as  gently  shut. 
Scarcely  heeding,  I  ran  on — my  feet  sounding 
sharply  on  the  frozen  cobbles;  and  with  that  a 
jet  of  light  leaped  from  under  the  door-sill 
327 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

across  the  narrow  pavement  and  almost  be- 
tween my  feet,,  and  I  pitched  headlong,  with  a 
shattered  foot. 

Doubtless  I  fainted  with  the  pain,  for  it 
could  not  have  been — as  it  seemed — but  a  min- 
ute later  that  I  opened  my  eyes  to  find  the 
square  crowded  and  bright  with  the  glare  of 
two  burning  houses.  A  herd  of  bellowing  oxen 
came  charging  past  the  gutter  where  I  lay, 
pricked  on  by  a  score  of  red-coats  yelling  in 
sheer  drunkenness  as  they  flourished  their  bay- 
onets. Two  or  three  of  them  wore  monks'  robes 
flung  over  their  uniforms,  and  danced  idiot- 
ically, holding  their  skirts  wide.  I  supposed 
it  had  been  raining,  for  a  flood  ran  through  the 
gutter  and  over  my  broken  ankle,  and  in  the 
light  of  the  conflagration  it  showed  pitch-black, 
and  by-and-by  I  knew  it  for  wine  flowing  down 
from  a  whole  cellarful  of  casks  which  a  score 
of  madmen  were  broaching  as  they  dragged 
them  forth  from  a  house  on  the  upper  side  of 
the  square.  A  child — he  could  not  have  been 
more  than  four  years  old — ran  screaming  by 
me.  From  a  balcony  right  overhead  a  soldier 
shot  at  him,  missed,  and  laughed  uproariously. 
Then  he  reloaded  and  began  firing  among  the 
328 


IN    CIUDAD    KODRIGO 

bullocks,  now  jammed  and  goring  one  another 
at  the  entrance  of  a  narrow  alley.  And  his 
shots  seemed  to  be  a  signal  for  a  general  salvo 
of  random  musketry.  I  saw  a  woman  cross 
the  roadway  with  a  rifleman  close  behind  her; 
he  swung  up  his  rifle,  holding  it  by  the  muzzle, 
and  clubbed  her  between  the  shoulders  with  the 
butt. 

All  night  these  scenes  went  by  me — these  and 
scenes  of  which  I  cannot  write;  unrolled  in  the 
blaze  of  the  houses  which  burnt  on,  as  little  re- 
garded as  I  who  lay  in  my  gutter  and  watched 
them  to  the  savage,  unending  music  of  yells, 
musketry  and  the  roar  of  flames. 

In  the  height  of  it  my  ear  caught  the  regular 
footfall  of  troops  and  a  squad  of  infantry  came 
swinging  round  the  corner.  I  supposed  it  to  be 
a  patrol  sent  to  clear  the  streets  and  restore 
order.  A  small  man  in  civilian  dress — a  Por- 
tuguese, by  his  dress — walked  gingerly  beside 
the  sergeant  in  charge  and — as  he  walked — • 
chattered  and  gesticulated.  And,  almost  in  the 
same  instant,  I  perceived  that  the  men  wore 
the  uniform  of  the  RTorth  Wilts  and  that 
the  sergeant  he  held  in  converse  was  George 
Leicester. 

329 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAERY   REVEL 

By  the  light  of  the  flames  he  recognised  me, 
shook  off  his  guide  and  stepped  forward. 

"Hurt  ?"  he  asked.  "Here,  step  out,  a  couple 
of  you,  and  take  hold  of  this  youngster.  He's 
a  friend  of  mine,  and  I've  something  to  show 
him — something  that  will  amuse  him,  or  I'm 
mistaken." 

They  hoisted  me,  not  meaning  to  be  rough, 
but  hurting  me  cruelly,  nevertheless ;  and  two  of 
them  made  a  "chair"  with  crossed  hands;  but 
they  left  my  wounded  foot  dangling,  and  I 
swooned  again  with  pain. 

When  I  came  to,  we  were  in  a  street,  dark 
but  for  their  lanterns — between  a  row  of  houses 
and  a  blank  wall;  and  against  this  wall  they 
were  laying  me.  The  houses  opposite  were 
superior  to  any  I  had  yet  seen  in  Ciudad  Rod- 
rigo,  and  had  iron  balconies  before  their  first- 
floor  windows,  broad  and  deep  and  overhanging 
the  house-doors. 

On  one  of  these  doors  Leicester  was  hammer- 
ing with  his  side-arm;  the  Portuguese  standing 
by  on  the  step  below.  No  one  answering,  he 
called  to  two  of  his  men,  who  advanced  and, 
setting  the  muzzles  of  their  muskets  close 
against  the  keyhole,  blew  the  door  in.  Leicester 
330 


IN   CITJDAD    RODRIGO 

snatched  a  lantern  and  sprang  inside,  the  two 
men  after  him.  The  Portuguese  waited.  The 
rest  of  the  soldiers  waited  too,  grounding  arms, 
— some  in  the  roadway,  others  by  the  wall  at 
the  foot  of  which  they  had  laid  me. 

A  minute  passed — two  minutes — and  then 
with  a  crash  a  man  sprang  through  one  of  the 
first-floor  windows,  flung  a  leg  over  the  balcony 
rail,  and  hung  a  moment  in  air  between  the 
ledge  and  the  street.  The  window  through 
which  he  had  broken  was  flung  up  and  Leicester 
came  running  after,  grabbing  at  him  vainly  as 
he  swung  clear. 

There  were  two  figures  now  on  the  balcony. 
A  woman  had  run  after  Leicester,  leant  for  a 
moment  with  both  hands  on  the  balcony  rail, 
and  turned  as  if  to  run  back.  Leicester  caught 
her  around  the  waist  and  held  her  so  while  she 
screamed — shrilly,  again  and  again. 

The  man  dangled  for  a  moment,  dropped 
with  a  horrible  thud,  and  answered  with  one 
scream  only — but  it  was  worse  even  than  hers 
to  hear.  Then  the  soldiers  ran  forward  and 
flung  themselves  upon  him. 

"Hold  the  lantern  higher,  you  fools!" 
shouted  Leicester,  straining  the  woman  to  him 
331 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

as  she  struggled  and  fought  to  get  away.  U0ver 
there,  by  the  wall — I  want  to  see  his  face! 
Steady  now,  my  beauty!" 

The  woman  sank  in  his  arms  as  if  fainting, 
and  her  screams  ceased.  There  was  a  stool  on 
the  balcony  and  he  seated  himself  upon  it, 
easing  her  down  and  seating  her  on  his  knee. 
This  brought  his  evil  face  level  with  the  bal- 
cony rail,  and  the  lantern,  held  high,  flared  up 
at  it. 

"Out  of  the  way,  youngster!"  one  of  the 
soldiers  commanded,  grimly.  "That  wall's 
wanted." 

He  dragged  me  aside  as  they  pulled  Whit- 
more  across  the  roadway.  I  think  his  leg  had 
been  broken  by  the  fall.  It  trailed  as  they  car- 
ried him,  and  when  they  set  him  against  the 
wall  it  doubled  under  him  and  he  fell  in  a 
heap. 

"Turn  up  his  face,  any  way,"  commanded 
Leicester,  from  the  balcony.  "I  want  to  see 
it !  And  when  you've  done,  you  can  leave  me 
with  this  beauty — Hey,  my  lass  ?  the  show's 
waiting.  Sit  up  and  have  a  look  at  him !" 

I  saw  Whitmore's  face  as  they  turned  it  up, 
and  the  sight  of  it  made  me  cover  my  eyes.  I 


IN    CIUDAD    RODKIGO 

heard  the  men  step  out  into  the  roadway  and 
set  back  their  triggers.  Crouching  against  the 
wall,  I  heard  the  volley. 

As  the  echoes  of  it  beat  from  side  to  side  of 
the  narrow  street  I  looked  again — not  towards 
the  wall — but  upwards  at  the  balcony,  under 
which  the  men  waved  their  lanterns  as  they 
dispersed,  leaving  the  corpse  where  it  lay.  To 
my  surprise  Leicester  had  released  the  woman. 
She  was  stealing  back  through  the  open  win- 
dow and  I  caught  but  a  glimpse  of  her  black 
head-veil  in  the  wavering  lights.  But  Leicester 
still  leaned  forward  with  his  chin  on  the  bal- 
cony rail,  and  grinned  upon  the  street  and  the 
wall  opposite. 

I  dragged  myself  from  the  spot.  How  long 
it  took  me  I  do  not  know,  for  I  crawled  on  my 
belly,  and  there  were  pauses  in  my  progress  of 
which  I  remember  nothing.  But  I  remember 
that  at  some  point  in  it  there  dawned  upon  me 
the  certainty  that  this  was  the  very  street  door 
which  I  had  struck  on  my  way  from  the  ram- 
parts. If  not  the  same  street,  it  must  have  been 
one  close  beside  and  running  parallel  with  it; 
for  at  daybreak,  with  no  other  guidance  than 
this  certainty,  I  found  myself  back  at  the 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

breach,  nursing  my  foot  and  staring  stupidly 
downwards  at  the  bodies  on  the  slope. 

Across  the  foot  of  it  a  young  officer  was  pick- 
ing his  way  slowly  in  the  dawn.  A  sergeant 
followed  him  with  a  notebook  and  pencil,  and 
two  men  with  lanterns.  They  were  numbering 
the  corpses,  halting  now  and  again  to  turn  one 
over  and  hold  a  light  to  his  face.  Half  way 
down,  between  them  and  me,  a  stink-pot  yet 
smouldered,  and  the  morning  air  carried  a  hor- 
rible smell  of  singed  flesh. 

As  the  dawn  widened,  one  of  the  men  opened 
his  lantern  and  blew  out  the  candle  within  it. 
The  young  officer — it  was  Archibald  Plinlim- 
mon — paused  in  his  search  and  scanned  the  sky 
and  the  ramparts  above.  I  sent  down  a  feeble 
hail. 

He  heard.  His  eyes  searched  along  the 
heaped  ruins  of  gabions,  fascines,  and  dead 
bodies ;  and,  recognising  me,  he  came  slowly  up 
the  slope. 

"Hullo !"  said  he.  "Not  badly  hurt,  I  hope  ? 
I  thought  we'd  cleared  all  the  wounded.  Where 
on  earth  have  you  come  from  ?" 

"From  the  town,  sir." 

"We'll  take  you  back  to  it  then.  They've 
334 


IN   CIUDAD    KODRIGO 

rigged  up  a  couple  of  hospitals,  and  it's  nearer 
than  camp.  Besides,  I  doubt  if  there's  an  am- 
bulance left  to  take  you." 

He  knelt  and  examined  my  foot.  "Hi, 
there!"  he  called  down.  "You — Vincent — 
come  and  help  me  with  this  boy !  Hurts  badly, 
does  it?  Never  mind — we'll  get  you  to  hos- 
pital in  ten  minutes.  But  what  on  earth 
brought  you  crawling  back  here  ?" 

"Mr.  Archibald,"  I  gasped,  "I  saw  Urn!" 

"Him?" 

"Whitmore!" 

He  stared  at  me.  "You're  off  your  head  a 
bit,  boy.  You'll  be  all  right  when  we  get  you 
to  hospital." 

"But  I  saw  him,  sir!  They  shot  him — 
against  the  wall.  He  was  a  deserter  and  they 
hunted  him  out." 

"Well,  and  what  is  that  to  me,  if  they  did  ?" 
He  turned  his  face  away.  "Isabel,  my  wife,  is 
dead,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"Dead?" 

"She  is  dead— and  the  child." 

He  bowed  his  face,  while  I  gazed  at  him, 
incredulous,  sick  at  heart. 

"If  what  you  say  is  true,"  he  said,  lifting 
335 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

his  eyes  till,  weary  and  desperate,  they  met 
mine,  "she  has  heen  avenged  to-night." 

"You  shall  see/'  I  promised ;  and  as  the  .two 
soldiers  picked  me  up  and  laid  me  along  a 
plank  I  made  signs  that  they  were  to  carry  me 
as  I  directed.  He  nodded  and  fell  into  pace 
beside  my  litter. 

The  body  of  Whitmore  lay  along  the  foot  of 
the  wall  where  it  had  fallen.  But  when  we  drew 
near  it  was  not  at  the  body  that  I  stared,  putting 
out  a  hand  and  gripping  Archibald  Plinlim- 
mon's  arm. 

On  the  balcony  opposite  George  Leicester 
still  leaned  forward  and  grinned  down  into  the 
street. 

He  did  not  move  or  glance  aside  even  when 
Archibald  commanded  the  men  to  set  me  down ; 
nor  when  he  passed  in  at  the  open  door  and  we 
waited;  nor  again  when  he  stepped  out  on  the 
balcony  and  called  him  by  name.  The  corpse 
stared  down  still.  For  it  was  a  corpse,  with  a 
woman's  bodkin-dagger  driven  tight  home  be- 
tween the  shoulder  blades. 

And  so,  by  an  unknown  woman's  hand,  Isa- 
bel's wrongs  had  earthly  vengeance. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV 

I  EXCHANGE  THE  LAUEEL  FOR  THE  OLIVE 

THUS,  in  hospital  at  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  ended 
mj  campaigning ;  and  here  in  a  few  words  may 
end  my  story.  The  surgeons,  having  their 
hands  full  and  detecting  no  opportunities  of 
credit  in  a  small  bugler  with  a  splintered  ankle, 
sent  me  down  to  Belem,  splinters  and  all,  to 
recover ;  and  at  Belem  hospital,  just  as  the  sur- 
geons were  beginning  to  congratulate  them- 
selves that,  although  never  likely  to  be  fit  again 
for  active  service,  I  might  in  time  make  a 
fairly  active  hospital  orderly,  the  splinters  be- 
gan to  work  through  the  flesh;  and  for  two 
months  I  lay  on  my  back  in  bed  and  suffered 
more  pain  than  has  been  packed  into  the  rest 
of  my  life. 

The  curious  part  of  it  was  that,  having  ex- 
tracted the  final  splinter,  they  promptly  inva- 
lided me  home.  From  the  day  I  limped  on 
board  the  Cumberland  transport  in  the  Tagus, 
337 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY    REVEL 

leaning  on  two  crutches,  I  began  to  mend ;  and 
within  twelve  months — as  may  hereafter  be  re- 
counted, I  was  back  again,  hale  and  hearty,  and 
marching  with  no  perceptible  limp,  on  the  soil 
of  Spain. 

But  I  must  not,  after  all,  conclude  in  this 
summary  fashion.  And  why  ?  Because  scarcely 
had  I  set  foot  in  the  Cumberland  when  a  voice 
from  somewhere  amidships  exclaimed — 

"My  blessed  Parliament !" 

I  looked  up  and  found  myself  face  to  face 
with — Ben  Jope! 

"And  you've  grown !"  he  added,  as  we  shook 
hands. 

"But,  Ben,  I  thought  you  were  married  and 
settled?" 

He  turned  his  eyes  away  uneasily. 

"Whoever  said  so  told  you  a  thundering  lie." 

"Nobody  told  me,"  said  I;  "but  when  you 
left  me  I  understood " 

"My  lad,"  he  interrupted,  hoarsely,  "I 
couldn't  do  it.  I  went  straight  back,  same  as 
you  saw  me  start — now  don't  say  a  word  till 
you've  heard  the  end  o't! — I  went  straight 
back,  and  up-  to  door  without  once  looking 
back.  There  was  a  nice  brass  knocker  to  the 
338 


THE    LAUREL    FOR    THE    OLIVE 

door  (I  never  denied  the  woman  had  some  good 
qualities)  ;  so  I  fixed  my  eyes  hard  on  it  and 
said  to  myself,  if  there's  peace  to  be  found  in 
this  world — which  was  a  Bible  text  that  came 
into  my  head — the  heart  that  is  humble,  which 
is  the  case  with  me,  may  look  for  it  here.  And 
with  that  I  shut  my  eyes  and  let  fly  at  it  though 
every  knock  brought  my  heart  into  my  mouth, 
i^ow  guess :  who  d'ye  think  answered  the  door  ? 
Why,  that  ghastly  boy  of  hers!  There  he 
stood,  all  freckles  and  pimples;  and  says  he, 
grinning, 

'  Mr.  Benjamin  Jope, 
Moderately  well,  I  hope.' 

I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  turned  tail  and  ran  for 
my  life." 

"But  was  that  quite  honourable  ?"  I  asked. 

"Ain't  I  tellin'  you  to  wait  till  I've  done? 
You  don't  suppose  it  ended  there,  do  you  ?  ~No ; 
I'd  passed  my  word  to  that  sister  of  mine,  and 
my  word  I  must  keep.  So  I  went  back  to 
Symonds's — who  was  that  pleased  to  see  me 
again  you'd  have  thought  I'd  been  half  round 
the  world — and  I  ordered  up  three-penn'orth  of 
rum  and  pens  and  ink  to  the  same  amount ;  and 
339 


ADVENTURES    OF    HAEEY   REVEL 

this  is  what  I  wrote,  and  I  hope  you'll  get  it 
by  heart  before  you're  in  a  hurry  again  to  ae- 
cuse  Ben  Jope  of  dishonourable  conduct — 
'Kespected  Madam/  I  wrote,  'this  is  to  inquire 
if  you'll  marry  me.  Better  late  than  never, 
and  please  don't  trouble  to  reply.  I'll  call  for 
an  answer  when  I  wants  it.  Yours  to  command, 
B.  Jope.  ~N.  B.  We  might  board  the  boy  out.' 
Symonds  found  a  messenger  and  I  told  him  on 
no  account  to  wait  for  an  answer.  Now,  I  hope 
you  call  that  acting  straight  ?" 

"Well,  but  what  was  the  answer  ?"  I  asked. 

He  hung  his  head.  "To  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  ha'n't  called  for  it  yet.  You  notice  I  didn't 
specify  no  time ;  and  being  inclined  for  a  v'yage 
just  then  I  tramped  it  down  to  Falmouth  and 
shipped  aboard  the  Maryborough,  Post  Office 
Packet,  for  Lisbon." 

"And  you've  been  dodging  at  sea  ever  since," 
said  I,  severely. 

"If  you'd  only  seen  that  boy—  '  protested 
Mr.  Jope. 

"I'll  call  with  you  and  see  him  as  soon  as 
ever  we  reach  Plymouth,"  I  said;  "but  you 
passed  your  word,  and  your  word  you  must 

keep." 

340 


THE    LAUKEL    FOR    THE    OLIVE 

"You're  sure  'twill  be  safe  for  you  at  Plym- 
outh?" he  asked,  and  (as  I  thought)  a  trifle 
mischievously.  "How  about  that  Jew?" 

"Oh,  that's  all  cleared  up." 

He  sighed.  "Some  folks  has  luck.  To  be 
sure,  he  may  be  dead/'  he  added,  with  an  at- 
tempt at  cheerfulness. 

"The  Jew?" 

"No,  the  boy." 

I  could  hold  out  no  hope  of  this,  and  he  con- 
soled himself  with  anticipating  the  time  we 
would  spend  together  at  Symonds's.  "For,  if 
you're  invalided  home,  they'll  discharge  you  on 
leave  as  soon  as  we  reach  port." 

"Unless  they  keep  me  in  hospital,"  said  I. 

"Then  you'll  have  to  make  a  cure  of  it  on  the 
voyage." 

"I  feel  like  that,  already.  But  the  mischief 
is,  I've  no  home  to  go  to." 

"There's  Symonds's." 

"I  might  give  that  as  an  address,  to  be  sure/* 

"Damme,"  cried  Ben,  as  a  bright  thought 
struck  him,  "why  couldn't  I  adopt  you  ?" 

"The  lady  might  find  that  an  inducement," 
said  I,  modestly. 

"I  wasn't  exactly  looking  on  it  in  that  light," 
341 


ADVENTURES    OF    HARRY   REVEL 

he  confessed.  "But  with  a  boy  apiece  she  and 
I  might  start  fair." 

The  Cumberland  weighed  anchor  on  the  2d 
of  May  and  dropped  it  again  under  Staddon 
Heights  on  the  29th  of  that  month.  To  my  de- 
light the  garrison  surgeon  at  Plymouth  pro- 
nounced me  fit  to  travel;  my  foot  only  needed 
rest,  he  said,  and  he  asked  me  where  my  home 
lay. 

I  had  anticipated  this  and  answered  that  a 
letter  addressed  to  me  under  care  of  Miss 
Agatha  Plinlimmon,  at  the  Genevan  Foundling 
Hospital,  would  certainly  find  me.  And  so  I 
was  granted  two  months'  leave  of  absence  to 
recover  from  my  wound. 

"But  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  Mr. 
Jope,  as  we  strolled  down  Union  Street  to- 
gether, "that  you  haven't  a  home  or  relations  in 
this  world  ?" 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other/'  said  I;  "but  I 
have  picked  up  a  few  friends." 

As  we  drew  westward  I  noticed  that  he  sensi- 
bly retarded  his  pace ;  but  he  had  forsworn  vis- 
iting Symonds's  until,  as  he  put  it,  we  knew  the 
worst;  and  I  marched  him  relentlessly  up  to 
342 


THE    LAUREL    FOE    THE    OLIVE 

the  door  of  doom  with  its  immaculate  brass 
knocker.  And,  when,  facing  it,  he  shut  his 
eyes,  I  put  out  a  hand  and  knocked  for  him. 

But  it  was  I  who  shrank  back  when  the  door 
opened;  for  the  person  who  opened  it  was — 
Mr.  George ! — in  pigtail  and  wooden  leg  un- 
changed, but  in  demeanour  (so  far  as  agitation 
allowed  me  to  remark  it)  more  saturnine  than 
ever. 

"Do  the  Widow  Geake  live  here?"  stam- 
mered Mr.  Jope. 

aShe  do  not,"  answered  Mr.  George,  slowly, 
and  added,  "Worse  luck !" 

"Is— is  she  dead?" 

"No,  she  ain't,"  answered  Mr.  George,  and 
pulled  himself  up. 

"Then  what's  the  matter  with  her  ?" 

"There  ain't  nothing  the  matter  with  her, 
as  I  know  by,"  answered  Mr.  George,  once  more 
in  a  non-committal  tone.  "But  I'm  her  ?us- 
band." 

"You— Mr.  George  ?"  I  gasped. 

Thereupon  he  recognised  me,  and  his  eyes 
grew  round,  yet  expressed  no  immoderate  sur- 
prise. 

"A  nice  dance  you've  led  everybody!"  he 
343 


ADVENTURES    OF   HARRY   REVEL 

said,  slowly;  abut  I  was  never  hopeful  about 
you,  I'm  thankful  to  say." 

"Where  is  Miss  Plinlimmon  living?"  I 
asked.  "Has  she  left  the  Hospital  too  ?" 

"She  didn't  leave  it/'  he  answered.  "It  left 
her.  The  Hospital's  scat." 

"Eh?" 

"Bust — sold  up — come  to  an  end.  Scougall's 
retired  on  the  profits;  he  feathered  his  nest. 
And  Miss  Plinlimmon's  gone  down  into  Corn- 
wall to  live  with  a  Major  Brooks — a  kind  of 
relation  of  hers,  so  far  as  I  can  make  out.  They 
tell  me  she've  come  into  money." 

I  had  a  question  on  my  lips,  but  Mr.  Jope 
interrupted. 

"I  haven't  the  pleasure  o'  your  acquaintance, 
sir,"  he  began  politely,  addressing  Mr.  George, 
"and,  by  the  look  of  'ee,  you  must  date  from 
before  my  time.  But,  speakin'  as  one  man  to 
another,  how  do  you  get  along  with  that  boy  ?" 

The  door  was  slammed  in  our  faces. 

Mr.  Jope  and  I  regarded  one  another. 
"Ben,"  said  I,  "it's  urgent,  or  I  wouldn't 
leave  you;  I  must  start  at  once  for  Minden 
Cottage." 

His  face  fell.  "And  I  was  planning  a  little 
344 


THE    LAUREL   FOR   THE    OLIVE 

kick-up  at  Symonds's,"  he  said,  ruefully;  "a 
fiddle  or  two — to  celebrate  the  occasion;  noth- 
ing out  o'  the  way.  The  first  time  you  dropped 
on  us,  if  you  remember,  we  was  not  quite  our- 
selves owing  to  poor,  dear  Bill;  and  I'd  ha' 
liked  you  to  form  a  brighter  idea  of  the  place. 
But  if  'tis  duty,  my  lad,  England  expec's  and 
I'm  not  gainsaying.  Duty,  is  it  ?" 

"Duty  it  is,"  said  I.  "You  walked  up  to 
yours  nobly,  and  I  must  walk  on  to  mine." 

So  we  shook  hands,  and  I  turned  my  face 
westward,  for  the  ferry. 

I  had  over-calculated  my  strength  and  limped 
sorely  the  last  mile  or  two  before  reaching 
Minden  Cottage.  Miss  Plinlimmon  opened  the 
door  to  me,  and  I  forgot  my  pain  for  an  instant 
and  ran  into  her  arms.  But  behind  her  lay  an 
empty  house. 

"The  Major  is  in  the  garden,"  she  said. 
"You  will  find  him  greatly  changed,  I  expect. 
Ever  since  my  coming  I  have  noticed  the  alter- 
ation." 

I  walked  through  to  the  summer-house.  The 
Major  was  fingering  his  Virgil,  but  laid  it 
down  and  shook  hands  gravely.  I  had  much  to 
345 


ADVENTURES    OP    HARRY   REVEL 

tell  him,  and  he  seemed  to  listen;  but  I  do  not 
think  that  he  heard. 

Miss  Plinlimmon — dear  soul,  unknowingly, 
had  prepared  for  me  the  very  room  to  which 
Isabel  had  led  me  on  the  night  of  my  first  ar- 
rival, and  in  which  she  had  knelt  beside  me. 
Miss  Plinlimmon  had  scarcely  known  Isabel, 
and  I  found  her  cheerfulness  almost  distressing 
when  she  came  to  wish  me  good-night. 

"And  I  have  composed  a  stanza  upon  you," 
she  whispered,  "if  you  care  for  such  things  any 
longer.  But  you  must  understand  that  it  has 
been — so  to  speak — improvised,  and — what 
with  the  supper  and  one  thing  and  another — I 
have  had  no  time  to  polish  it." 

I  said  sleepily  that,  unpolished  though  it 
were,  I  wished  to  hear  it ;  and  here  it  is : — 

"  Wounded  hero,  you  were  shattered 

In  the  ankle — do  not  start ! 
Much,  much  more  it  would  have  mattered 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  heart. 
The  bullet  sped  comparatively  wide; 

And  he  survives  to  be  Old  England's  pride." 

THE  END 


346 


NOVELS  AND    STORIES   BY  "Q" 
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ARTHUR  T.  QUILLER-COUCH  was 
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late  Robert  Louis  Stevenson's  unfinished  ro- 
mance. That  fact  gives  some  idea  of  how  he 
is  regarded  by  the  foremost  literary  men  of  his 
time.  But  notwithstanding  this,  and  notwith- 
standing his  great  reputation  in  England,  where 
he  is  as  widely  read  by  the  public  as  he  is  highly 
praised  by  critics  and  fellow -craftsmen — espe- 
cially by  his  early  and  discerning  admirer,  J.  M. 
Barrie — there  are  many  lovers  of  good  books  in 
this  country  who  have  yet  to  realize  the  full 
literary  importance  of  this  vigorous  Cornish- 
man.  He  has  done  for  the  rugged  west  coast 
of  England  and  its  quaint  characters  and  ro- 
mantic history  what  Thomas  Nelson  Page  has 
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NOVELS  AND  STORIES  BY  "Q" 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF 
HARRY  REVEL 

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The  Splendid  Spur 
I  Saw  Three  Ships 
Dead  Man's  Rock 

The  Delectable  Duchy 
The  Blue  Pavilions 

Noughts  and  Crosses 
Wandering  Heath 
Troy  Town,  and 

Adventures   in   Criticism 


IA:   A  Love  Story 

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APR    7     1934 

FEB     221935 

FFR    18  1936 

ntoo      -Q  «    -tj. 

JUL  11  Wft 

.- 

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ffn       ^  10^^  I  1 

FtB       "  «"Ot3  LU 

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,D  21-100m-7,'33 


438747 
Ct  Ur. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


